I broke my baby toe about a week and a half ago. I've been protecting it like a mother bear after my children attacked it mercilessly for a few days following the initial injury. Even with the potential pain, I needed some stretching last week. It was surprisingly easy to keep it out of harm's way. Carpets aren't nearly as prone to kicking and crushing broken toes as children are. I was relieved, and the Yoga was very effective and wonderfully soothing.
As I go through my workout, there is a move where you transition from downward facing dog to upward facing dog. Basically, from an "A" shape, feet never moving, through a plank position pushing forward until your torso is facing forward with your arms unbent at your sides. (I'm sure that's really confusing. It was hard for me to figure out how to do physically, let alone describe with words.) As I pushed through the plank position this time, I remembered a time when I had taken a terrible fall down my friend's front concrete steps a few years ago. I caught myself on my hands. I had not broken my wrists, but it took weeks for the muscles to heal to the point where they could bear weight or support anything at all. . . like a skillet I needed to place on a stovetop. It was much longer until I could twist my hands naturally. Now, I caught my breath as I realized that it has been more than I year since I needed to baby my right wrist through that move. I remember wondering if it would ever heal completely. I hardly remember it happening, it's healing, it was so gradual. . . but it has healed.
The next thought I had was of gratitude, that I had this thread of Yoga to remind me of where I've been physically, and show me where I am now. I think there are many threads in our lives, if we will practice consistently, which will serve us the same way. The things we practice, which we love and which make us who we are will serve to mark our path and show us how far we have truly come.
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