Australian Yoga Journal — November 2017

PHOTO: PEOPLEIMAGES;RIDOFRANZ/ ISTOCKPHOTO.COM

SMALL BEADSof perspiration danced on

my brow and I could feel the flutter of

my heart in my hands that were sealed

in prayer, my thumbs meeting at the

indentation of my sternum. I tuned into

the minuscule movements of my

muscles, the gentle yet purposeful

structure of my bones and the way

everything was ever-so-carefully bound

together by a map of ligaments, tissues

and nerves.

From foundation to flow

Tadasana is not a pose that readily

comes to mind when you think of a

challenging yoga asana. And yet here I

stood, in full focus, aware of how the

various parts of my body were all asking

for cooperation to sustain harmony.

On the mat, as in everyday life, we

tend to find our own unique flow. Often,

when that flow becomes routine, we

barely have to think about it at all. It is

only when this flow becomes unexpect-

edly interrupted that we are forced to

look at things in a new light.

Insights from injuries

Recently, I was on my yoga mat early

one morning before dawn, moving

through my practice, as I have done for

over a decade. Yet on this particular

morning, I arched my back into a full

wheel pose, and something ever so

quietly clicked in my neck. What

followed was days of agonising pain

and trips to chiropractors and

physiotherapists that forced me to

navigate my world in an entirely new

way.

Yoga has always been my constant,

and my daily practice has been the

saving grace that has guided me

through various transitions in my life.

Spontaneously ripping this practice

away from me, evenmomentarily, was

frightening in a very real way. And yet,

like every challenge in life, my forced

sabbatical offered me insights and

revelations that I have come to

appreciate. Slowly and cautiously

edging my body back onto my mat has

offered me the chance to return to my

practice as a beginner.

Lesson one: Awareness

Thrust out of my comfort zone and my

accustomed ways of moving my body,

the first lesson that my injury taught me

wasawareness. One of the greatest gifts

of yoga is its ability to haul you into the

present moment. Yet when we fall into a

routine with yoga, our ability to

maintain steadfast focus can mitigate.

An injury, however, unapologetically

forces you to be present with your body.

Returning to my practice, I was thrust

into a constant and unrelenting dialogue

with my body. The very process of a sun

salutation became fascinating to me. I

became acutely attuned to what my body

could handle and what is was not ready

for, and in this way, I was able to

navigate my healing journey with safe

attentiveness.

Lesson two: Patience

Of course, a huge lesson has been

patience. Patience is not my finest

virtue, yet I soon discovered resistance

would only cause greater frustration and

pain. As I felt my body slowly advancing,

my automatic instinct was to push. Go a

little further, my wicked mind would

command. It is in our nature to want to

rush, to get to where we want to be as

fast as we possibly can. This injury

reminded me that the journey is what

matters, not the destination, and I came

to appreciate the small victories that

presented themselves to me each day

with glee.

EP BY

74

november/december 2017

yogajournal.com.au

Kelly Fielding

explores how

insights from a

yoga injury translate

into everyday

life lessons.