I learned a valuable lesson this week that I thought I would share. It's called 'apparently-I-am-not-invincible'. A lot of yoga and too much digging in the garden was not good for my knee, I now realize. I went to my D.O. yesterday and was handed a tube of medicated cream and an order for an x-ray, was told that most likely I needed surgery and was sent out the door. Not the best way to start a week. Especially for a yoga teacher.
I allowed myself the day to wallow in self-pity and knee loathing. I gave into my lazy side and played video games. I whined at my friends and my mother. And then I went to yoga class. By the time I left, an hour and fifteen minutes later, my mood had changed dramatically. Yoga heals. Maybe not knees, at least not in 75 minutes, but certainly attitudes. I dropped my 'poor me, stupid knee' mood without even really thinking of it. When I got home I reached for the by prescription only, medicated cream and took a moment to read through the packaging. May cause heart failure, life threatening skin reactions, and stroke. Hmmm......not really what I'm looking for right now. Maybe a little too much risk for a sore knee. Into the trash went the fancy cream and out of the freezer came the trusty ice-pack.
Today I went to my chiropractor, whom I love, and heard a different story about my knee. Somewhere my husband is chuckling as I write this because he isn't as completely sold on the magic of chiropractics as I am. Physical therapy, not surgery. Orthotic inserts, not N-SAID pain relievers to be smeared into the skin at risk of your heart and liver. Breathe. As you may guess, I left his office in a much better place. Maybe that's why I love him.
Yoga is my friend. Yoga did not cause my knee injury but it will help me learn to manage it. Yoga will remind me to focus on one moment at a time. To be here now. Not to worry about a random surgery I may not need. Yoga will not let me push myself too far because that would be doing harm to myself. Yoga will ask me to tell myself a different story than 'I have bad knee'. Yoga will help me to stop and breathe.
Maybe I will need surgery. Yoga will keep me calm should that moment come. In the meantime, I will refrain from mid-afternoon Super Mario Bros. and potato chips. I will take what my D.O. says with a grain of salt. I will listen to my body. I will breathe.
I allowed myself the day to wallow in self-pity and knee loathing. I gave into my lazy side and played video games. I whined at my friends and my mother. And then I went to yoga class. By the time I left, an hour and fifteen minutes later, my mood had changed dramatically. Yoga heals. Maybe not knees, at least not in 75 minutes, but certainly attitudes. I dropped my 'poor me, stupid knee' mood without even really thinking of it. When I got home I reached for the by prescription only, medicated cream and took a moment to read through the packaging. May cause heart failure, life threatening skin reactions, and stroke. Hmmm......not really what I'm looking for right now. Maybe a little too much risk for a sore knee. Into the trash went the fancy cream and out of the freezer came the trusty ice-pack.
Today I went to my chiropractor, whom I love, and heard a different story about my knee. Somewhere my husband is chuckling as I write this because he isn't as completely sold on the magic of chiropractics as I am. Physical therapy, not surgery. Orthotic inserts, not N-SAID pain relievers to be smeared into the skin at risk of your heart and liver. Breathe. As you may guess, I left his office in a much better place. Maybe that's why I love him.
Yoga is my friend. Yoga did not cause my knee injury but it will help me learn to manage it. Yoga will remind me to focus on one moment at a time. To be here now. Not to worry about a random surgery I may not need. Yoga will not let me push myself too far because that would be doing harm to myself. Yoga will ask me to tell myself a different story than 'I have bad knee'. Yoga will help me to stop and breathe.
Maybe I will need surgery. Yoga will keep me calm should that moment come. In the meantime, I will refrain from mid-afternoon Super Mario Bros. and potato chips. I will take what my D.O. says with a grain of salt. I will listen to my body. I will breathe.
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