Pain Level 1-2
It has been 4 weeks since that I was told to slow down my yoga practice. Since then I have modified my practice considerably. I am no longer doing any hip openers with the right hip. I am doing many poses with my knee on the mat. I have also stopped going to practice on a daily basis. I now do mostly restorative and yin yoga with an occasional level 2 or 3 class or a modified Power Yoga class. Since then I have noticed that my hip is beginning to feel better. Slowly but better. I am off pain medication including Tylenol which only I take on the rare occasion and ice my hip each night. That really helps. I still have difficult nights but there have been times during the day when I am amazed that my hip actually feels good. Bad weather seems to impact it. I find that it is becoming more stable but it has less flexibility, which is to be expected. I often feel that my efforts prior to the directive to back off, have had an affect on the future of my recovery. I am hopeful it may just have prolonged it rather than created limitations. I plan on holding off until I see Dr. Kaplan on November 19.
I am starting to outline an article I am thinking of calling "Confessions and Cautions from a Recovering Hip Replacement Yogi". I have divided it into Before, During, and After observations and advice. I will post my work as it develops.
In the meantime I just read an article today that was posted on Elephant Journal (an amazing site). I have taken the liberty of posting it here. I wish I had read this before my surgery. It would have significantly changed things. Read on...
Stay Tuned!
Namaste
Donna
http://www.elephantjournal.com/2014/10/ego-injury-10-questions-for-yoginis/?utm_source=All&utm_campaign=Daily+Moment+of+Awake+in+the+Inbox+of+Your+Mind&utm_medium=email
Via Gregory Ormsonon Oct 16, 2014
Sigmund
Freud linked ego and id, forever saddling the Western world with a limiting and
rigid psychodynamic duality.
Yet I’ve come to see the truth of a
related link, ego and injury. Though not always true, I’ve noticed the bigger
the ego the more often the injury, and the reason I’ve noticed is that I have
found it in myself.
Ego isn’t a bad word, and an ego is
necessary, for it means one has an awareness of the self and their place in the
world. Even Patanjali spoke of ego’s place in identity formation, using the
word ahamkaar as one of the ego’s three aspects.
A healthy ego borders and protects
our self-identity and social energy, and along with the energy of id, ego
assists us as we aim at our life’s ambitions. But like beans or tomatoes, there
are varieties of ego.
A wise mentor once offered me a
crucial distinction by saying it’s important to have a strong ego but not a
big one.
This gets at the heart of the matter
with injury: a big ego wants to push for recognition, praise and an adoring
cadre of witnesses. A big ego might push me to go faster, stronger or deeper
than my body is built to withstand.
But a strong ego is one
of self-strength with an acceptance of limits. A strong ego knows its place in the world and that having a
confident identity does not require followers, trophies or recognition. A
strong ego will not drive me to push beyond my limits and therefore will help
keep me from injury. A big ego will do the opposite. I could elaborate, but think
about your story, your ego, and how it might reveal your injury history.
Like many, I’ve suffered from
injuries and I understand their unhappy residuals.
In the past, by will and denial, I
powered through injuries and was determined they would not keep me down. This
was not good or smart, but when I was young, I fought every impulse to slow
down. I detested injuries and didn’t want physical therapy, braces, rest or
medical treatment. I had one purpose, and that was to return to activity,
competition or physical tests.
Over time, I’ve come to value my
injuries for they protect me from increased damage by limiting my range of
motion. This prevents over extension, which may have been the cause of my
original injury. I’ve come to see the pain of injury as a friend because it
tells my body to stop. By listening to this pain, I’ve learned to reframe it as
a teacher and healer.
Yes, I value my injuries because they have allowed space and time to bring new
insights that would normally have taken longer. As injury takes me out of my
comfort zone it can become a quickening container for growth and
transformation.
I’ve been slow to learn from my
injuries, but their enduring lessons have fallen on good soil: I’ve learned how
to accept the patient but enduring movement from painful to playful, from
morose to merry, from avoidant to accepting, from ignorance to awareness, from
disengagement to engagement in a meditative way.
Greater awareness has helped me
discover how to meditate on injury, resulting in new questions that only I
could answer. In dialoguing with my injuries, I’ve found these questions help
me see them as the teachers they are:
1. How is this injury a positive—can
I reframe it
2. What does this injury mean for me
in the here and now
3. What does this injury help me to
avoid, how is it useful for my mental strength or weakness
4. What am I not required to do when
injured—how does it get me off the hook
5. Who am I not required to be when
I am injured—how does it allow me to break from my usual ego driven
requirements
6. How does this injury help me
emotionally—who am I manipulating
7. What does my injury do for me
when I wear it on my sleeve
8. Who does my injury allow me to
blame, avoid, empower, bless or curse
9. How present was I when the injury
occurred
10. What is this injury telling me
about the way I live my life
In a gut-check, self-loving honest
way, it’s possible to open up the meaning of injuries by using—as one example—a
Gestalt chair to chair dialog technique. The methodology is simple but requires
active imagination.
Place yourself in one chair and your
injury across from you in another. You may name your injury to make it concrete. You may place a pillow, crutch or some
other object in that chair so you can better visualize it.
Prepare by finding a quiet time and
place, then talk with your injury. Use a notebook and record its answers. Call
it by name. Make it speak to you. Through active imagination, you may find
surprising answers that can jolt you to a new awareness, deeper understanding
and greater self-acceptance.
And this will be good, because yoga
practice (and your injury) is largely about new awareness.
Now…back to that ego.
References:
Patanjali reference from How to Know
God: The Yoga Aphorisms of
Patanjali, Swami Prabhavananda &
Christopher Isherwood, Vedanta Press, 1953 (pp 15-16).
About
Gregory Ormson
Gregory Ormson is the ‘motorcycling yogi.’ He lives in Kona, Hawaii, where
he rides Wildfire, his Harley-Davidson, 365 days a year. Greg free-dives,
writes and stays warm practicing Bikram yoga. He earned his Doctor of Ministry
degree from The Chicago Theological Seminary where he studied psychology and
theology. You can find his tweets at #GAOrmson and check out his blog.
