BAG OF HAMMERS, REDUX

A few years ago I wrote a post on this blog called "Bag of Hammers Pose"  about doing a whole class with blocks propped beneath various body parts.  It hurt.  I didn't like it.  http://circlingthemat.blogspot.com/2015/02/bag-of-hammers-pose.html,

I was reminded of that post this morning when I went to the Inside Out Yoga Massage class, my second visit to this offering.  Based on the first class I attended I knew a bit about what to expect.  We would massage our bodies using props -- such as soft, cushy balls (feels good) and smaller, hard rubber balls (feels less good).

So, that's what we did and like the first time I attended this class, I felt like a rank beginner.  I forgot to pick up the twin pack of therapy balls from the basket so Robin, our instructor, had to bring them to me.  I tried to follow her directions but couldn't seem to find the right spot in my hip flexor area, or at least wasn't sure if I found the right spot, when she had us lie belly down on first the cushy ball, then the harder ball to "massage" that area.  I rolled around and followed directions, but felt uncoordinated and unsure and it was a little hurt-y.  Then we went on to rolling both balls on the sides of our hips and buttocks with me having the same result -- not sure if I was doing it right; not sure if I was hitting the designated spot.  I was sure, however, that those small rubber balls can feel a bit torturous on tender muscles.

Being one to push for results, however, I called up the old maxim from Jane Fonda Aerobic Home Video days -- "No pain, no gain."  Then I told myself that little bit of advice it antithetical to good yoga, so I backed off to a more comfortable pressure.

Next we placed the balls under our sacrum, being encouraged to roll our bodies up and over the balls so that they massaged either side of the spine all the way to the shoulder area.  I kept losing my balance and falling off the balls.  My shoulder got tired holding my body weight aloft, so I squirmed and struggled to find a comfortable posture for this move, unsuccessfully.  Then I realized I was unable to move much at all and got "stuck", as did my shirt, which kept rolling up with the balls and exposing my back fat.  Not a good look.

But I hung in there.  Yes, indeed-y.  I trusted Robin's excellent instruction and assurance that these movements, though slight, were mighty and would result in looser fascia and musculature allowing for better posture and walking gait, thus keep us limber and upright into our more Golden than they already are Years.  And I'm all for that!

She suggested we might want to purchase our own torture (I mean, "therapy") balls and roll around at home while doing a Netflix binge.  At this point I prefer a soft sofa and my blankie, but I do believe there is benefit, so I'll keep coming back to class until I'm more proficient and less apt to toss those balls into the trash heap of other well-intentioned exercise equipment gathering dust in my closet.

I'm sure I'll get there, even if Robin did compare the whole enterprise to the experience of giving birth -- breathe and relax into it.  I guess there is value in breathing through discomfort.  That trick has gotten me through many rough spots in my life, leaving me stronger and more flexible, both physically and emotionally, even if there isn't a bouncing bundle of joy to show for it every time.

(P.S.  I hope I didn't scare you off -- please come to Inside Out Yoga Massage.  There are smiles, even laughter, amongst the grimaces, I promise!  If nothing else, you can laugh at me; I'm sure I was quite a sight!  😂) ©

Namaste,  donnajurene

CELEBRATE DISCOMFORT!

Yes, it sounds counter-intuitive.  But sometimes being uncomfortable offers great insights into where we can grow.

Elizabeth led us through a series of therapeutic asanas in class this week, where as is typical, some people easily folded into whatever posture she was guiding, and others, well, not so much.  Elizabeth said she (like me) used to compare herself to the practitioner on the next mat and berate herself for not being as flexible, not being able to do the pose or hold the pose.  But then she came to realize that instead, she could be excited about those challenges!  If it's easy, that's not where one needs to work.  It's the challenging poses that show us where we are weak, stiff, sore, and unbalanced.  Instead of lamenting this, we can say...."Yay!  My body is showing me where it needs me to focus!"  Putting attention and intention in this area will result in big benefits in growing stronger, more supple, and balanced over time.

Makes sense, right?

The other thing that happened at that class was the number of people who showed up on a rainy, blustery Wednesday morning.  There were 30 people jammed into the studio, with one late-comer who decided to unfurl her mat in the entryway and follow along through the open door.  Being the sensitive teacher she is, Elizabeth immediately acknowledged that the unusually close proximity to our "neighbor" on the next mat might be uncomfortable for some people.  We generally have the luxury of spreading out more at Yoga Circle.  (I've seen big city classes where mats are about 6 inches from each other on all sides!)

As she asked us to consider how this felt, and to acknowledge without judgment, this feeling, I realized that I did, indeed, feel a bit crowded and uncomfortable.  I never want to be in anyone's way nor intrude in any way on their space.  And I don't really like people invading my space either.  We Americans have a need for "personal space" that is a greater distance than in some cultures and this is especially true of we introverts.  But what I discovered as the class went on was that without even really interacting with those around me I started to feel close to them, in a "friendly" way.  We were a community of sorts and I felt warmed by the presence of those close to my mat.

The following day, with its brilliant blue sky and sunshine, fewer folks came to class.  There were seven of us and we had vast expanses of space around us.  I ended up feeling a bit lonely!  I loved that I wasn't worried about intruding on anyone,  but I also realized that the energy was dispersed and I felt more alone in my practice.

I learned more about my own comfort by experiencing and acknowledging my discomfort in both classes.  Just as Elizabeth had taught us -- there is wisdom to be found in focusing on that muscle which needs more stretching.  I learned I can adjust to a crowd; I feel lonelier than I thought I would when in sparsely populated areas; and my Goldilocks middle ground is appreciated when it happens, but I can be OK with whatever comes.

Celebrate discomfort! ©

Namaste, donnajurene

Photo Credit:  Copyright: <a href='https://www.123rf.com/profile_racorn'>racorn / 123RF Stock Photo</a>