WE JUST DON'T KNOW . . .
One outstanding moment recently was an emotional one. A piercing question was asked in a yoga training and, after discussion, all in the room were asked to look within ourselves and find two things we desired to 'let go of'.
Before I go any further, let me say that that 'letting go' is one of the cornerstones of yoga therapy. As I work with people, I am seeing the phenomenon John has described repeatedly -- that of the illness / injury / condition becoming a part of one's identity. When we do therapy to correct or help, we are asking some people to give up a part of their identity. Not something everyone is ready to do.
At the end of our 'outstanding moment', many were in tears - others were relieved to have said their 'two things' - some were just glad to get out of the room, because for many these are not things said easily or without dis-ease.
I appreciated everyone's sharing and I learned the very valuable lesson that -- as I look at a room of well-dressed, outgoing and seemingly healthy people in a yoga class -- I have NO idea what has gone on in their life before this yoga session.
This knowledge has changed my perspective so much -- no longer do I look at someone and think "she's wearing Lululemon and she looks great -- she must have a great life". How do I know that? Oh, I see the label on the clothing, but the part about her life? I have NO idea what great or not-so-great things have transpired in that person's life, what brought them to yoga, what keeps them in yoga. I'll pick up bits and pieces of information as we become acquainted; but, I may never have a deep knowing of the happenings that have impacted another's life. Scary and interesting, isn't it?
That doesn't mean I am now in the business of trying to figure out everyone's story. It just is an awakening realization for me. A realization that does affect how I interact with people. I find I don't 'rush to judgment'; I wait. I listen, and I wait -- because, bit by bit stories (at least, parts of them) do emerge.
Last night, I was honored to be invited to teach an introductory session to a group of people (7 of them), and their caregivers (25 of them - family and friends). People who are struggling with a devastating disease, PSP (progressive supranuclear palsy). First impression -- what a great group. All laughing, chatting, enjoying friends (old & new) and family. Except for canes and a couple wheelchairs, you might have wondered 'what's the big deal'.
We got to my part - yoga. A challenge, at best, for me to walk into a room of the unknown (oh, I knew one person - a long-time student and friend, and a victim of this disease). However, I didn't know how the others would present, what their limitations might be and/or how they would look at and receive me.
Because of the balance limitations this disease creates, we all stayed in chairs. We sat tall, with legs and feet squarely planted - as if in tadasana. The breath was noticed and appreciated. We moved the spine, forward & back - side to side - twisting. We rested. We focused on the breath. I talked. We raised arms, did a few shoulder stretches, then tried a seated forward fold. Best of all, we laughed (sometimes at me). We rested. Then, we did a couple of pranayama exercises. Finished by acknowledging each other with hands at heart and saying Namaste'.
Why tell you this -- because, take away the canes & wheelchairs, I might never imagine some of these people had an issue more than a sprained ankle (a reason for the cane). They all appeared healthy and - best of all - happy.
At the end, comments came in indicating their desire to move. Just breathing deeply and stretching as we did made them feel better, more energized. Wow! More magic.
The fact that I don't know is still scary and interesting, but - now - I have this tool called 'yoga' to help me and these friends named John, Sundari, Adam, Christina, MarieChristina, etc., etc., etc., to guide me. Thank you for sharing your knowledge.
Today's schedule?
Enjoy your Tuesday,
Before I go any further, let me say that that 'letting go' is one of the cornerstones of yoga therapy. As I work with people, I am seeing the phenomenon John has described repeatedly -- that of the illness / injury / condition becoming a part of one's identity. When we do therapy to correct or help, we are asking some people to give up a part of their identity. Not something everyone is ready to do.
At the end of our 'outstanding moment', many were in tears - others were relieved to have said their 'two things' - some were just glad to get out of the room, because for many these are not things said easily or without dis-ease.
I appreciated everyone's sharing and I learned the very valuable lesson that -- as I look at a room of well-dressed, outgoing and seemingly healthy people in a yoga class -- I have NO idea what has gone on in their life before this yoga session.
This knowledge has changed my perspective so much -- no longer do I look at someone and think "she's wearing Lululemon and she looks great -- she must have a great life". How do I know that? Oh, I see the label on the clothing, but the part about her life? I have NO idea what great or not-so-great things have transpired in that person's life, what brought them to yoga, what keeps them in yoga. I'll pick up bits and pieces of information as we become acquainted; but, I may never have a deep knowing of the happenings that have impacted another's life. Scary and interesting, isn't it?
That doesn't mean I am now in the business of trying to figure out everyone's story. It just is an awakening realization for me. A realization that does affect how I interact with people. I find I don't 'rush to judgment'; I wait. I listen, and I wait -- because, bit by bit stories (at least, parts of them) do emerge.
Last night, I was honored to be invited to teach an introductory session to a group of people (7 of them), and their caregivers (25 of them - family and friends). People who are struggling with a devastating disease, PSP (progressive supranuclear palsy). First impression -- what a great group. All laughing, chatting, enjoying friends (old & new) and family. Except for canes and a couple wheelchairs, you might have wondered 'what's the big deal'.
We got to my part - yoga. A challenge, at best, for me to walk into a room of the unknown (oh, I knew one person - a long-time student and friend, and a victim of this disease). However, I didn't know how the others would present, what their limitations might be and/or how they would look at and receive me.
Because of the balance limitations this disease creates, we all stayed in chairs. We sat tall, with legs and feet squarely planted - as if in tadasana. The breath was noticed and appreciated. We moved the spine, forward & back - side to side - twisting. We rested. We focused on the breath. I talked. We raised arms, did a few shoulder stretches, then tried a seated forward fold. Best of all, we laughed (sometimes at me). We rested. Then, we did a couple of pranayama exercises. Finished by acknowledging each other with hands at heart and saying Namaste'.
Why tell you this -- because, take away the canes & wheelchairs, I might never imagine some of these people had an issue more than a sprained ankle (a reason for the cane). They all appeared healthy and - best of all - happy.
At the end, comments came in indicating their desire to move. Just breathing deeply and stretching as we did made them feel better, more energized. Wow! More magic.
The fact that I don't know is still scary and interesting, but - now - I have this tool called 'yoga' to help me and these friends named John, Sundari, Adam, Christina, MarieChristina, etc., etc., etc., to guide me. Thank you for sharing your knowledge.
Today's schedule?
- Class with Wayne
- Paperwork
- Take care of my cold
Enjoy your Tuesday,