embodied wisdom: lessons on chronic pain + yoga postures (with tips via Sequence Wiz)

As a yoga practitioner + teacher who has experienced chronic pain off and on for over 20 years due to a sports-related injury in high school, I know firsthand how vital it is to have an intimate understanding of our pelvis and sacrum. Yoga therapist Olga Kabel of Sequence Wiz  (whose vision statement “every yoga practice must have purpose, order and meaning” resonates deeply with my own approach) explains it clearly here: Too many asymmetrical poses can create sacroiliac joint issues. I can attest that the simple and functional exercises I learned from a friend (also a yoga therapist in the viniyoga tradition like the author of the blog linked above) have been an enormous help to me in maintaining pelvic/sacral stability.

Embodied Wisdom: A Twenty-Year Lesson on Chronic Pain + Rehabilitative Therapies + Yoga

Back in 2006, I remember being baffled when a physical therapy assistant told me to stop practicing yoga even though the stretches for my super tight iliopsoas muscles (deemed the culprit for my back pain) were similar to the asanas (like lunges and pigeon pose) that seemed to help relieve the tension in that area. She offered no further explanation that I can recall, so I was hardly convinced it was problematic. I loved how my body felt in postures and appreciated the skill with which my teacher instructed.

Even before starting my teacher’s training with her that summer, I came to experience the potential of yoga as a lifelong journey of self study and refinement. Coupled with my study and practice of Zen Buddhism, I knew that it had less to do with what happened physically on a mat and far more to do with generating compassion, equanimity and resilience of heart and mind in order to nourish skillful understanding of ourselves and skillful relationships with others. Asana can be used as a skillful means of clearing tension in body, heart and mind. However, what has become clear to me over the years about asana is that, if not practiced or taught with a skillful understanding of the interplay between movement, muscles, connective tissues and bones, it can be incompleteineffective and dangerous. This may be what the PTA meant but failed to articulate.

I’ve been treated by athletic trainers, physical therapists, occupational therapists, osteopaths and podiatrists since my high school sports injury. None have quite made a deep and thorough connection between my various symptoms (broken toe bone, strain in my arches, tightness in Achilles and calf, shin splints, runner’s knee, frozen shoulder, SI issues–a spiraling line of dysfunction from my left foot, leg and hip wrapping around to the right side of my sacrum and continuing upward to my right shoulder and, sometimes, down to my right elbow and wrist—all arising from a brief stint running track followed by 3 years of shot putting + discus throwing) and the root cause: pelvic and sacral instability.

During my last trimester of pregnancy in 2010, nearly every footstep would bring searing pain to my pelvis because of pubic symphysis diastasis  (PT treatment #3). The pain diminished post-partum as my ligaments tightened and knitted my pubic bones back together but returned with a vengeance in the form of sciatica and SI pain, making it difficult to sleep and even to walk when getting out of bed in the morning. For a mom, on little sleep, who uses her body for a living to teach yoga, this was madness!

Over the past two years, I’ve seen an osteopath and undergone a fourth round of physical therapy. I found that going to an osteopath was a waste of time and insurance money for such fleeting relief. I would feel better after the manual manipulation but then, because of my daily activities, would run the risk of throwing myself back into misalignment and require readjustment again…Um, no thanks! I asked numerous questions about caring for my body’s unique structural alignment as well as the impact of yoga poses and running on my problematic areas. According to them: no restrictions, limitations or modifications were needed. Hmmm, really?!  And, of course, the pain returned.

So back to physical therapy for what I proclaimed would be the last time. During my initial assessment with the PT, I rattled off my history of injuries/symptoms dating back to the stress fracture in my foot from a stunt I performed (jumped off a cement post and crossed my legs as I hit the ground) when I was 8 years old! I absolutely did not care that the PT was taken aback by my onslaught of information. She actually told me she didn’t need to know all of that (meaning, insurance only covers the current, localized issue — my sacrum). But I wasn’t having it and promptly insisted that she help me to understand and to correct the chain of dysfunction, explaining that I could not keep coming back to physical therapy every few years for “Band-Aid” treatments.

Even though I asked the same questions about maintenance and self-care, I had no illusions that I would get all the answers from physical therapy. Indeed, I got the same “you’re-free-to-move-without-restrictions” prescription. (To their credit, I realize that in some ways these therapists deferred to my experience as a yoga teacher, as well as my healthy range of motion in my joints–figuring I knew how to take care of myself.) But overall I did receive a better treatment plan this time because I advocated for it. More important, in deciding to be fully responsible for my own healing and care, I diligently tested the validity of the recommendations from these healthcare practitioners alongside the knowledge of my body I had acquired through my training, practicing and teaching of asana. I continue to seek new perspectives on anatomy, physiology, kinesiology and exercise to refresh my understanding and application of relevant principles and tips to my practice and teaching.

Treating every movement as an act and extension of yoga has been key to healing and realigning my body. Through the union of purposeful asana with running, walking, strength training, and self-applied myofascial release with foam rollers and balls (see links below), I have gained more stability and a considerable sense of freedom from pain and tension in my body. I continuously share this journey with my students and encourage them to trust their bodies’ wisdom (particularly when it shows up as pain) and to develop a collaborative relationship with their care providers. They may be experts in their fields, but we must reclaim our role as experts of our own bodies.

Related:

Learn more about the role of connective tissue plays in creating and maintaining stability, postural integrity, and balancing out or holding “stuck” tension.

Anatomy Trains

MELT Method

inviting mindfulness in a moment of madness: how I learned to live the meditation when sitting was not an option

Looking back on the journey. Appreciating all the lessons lived! #DharmaForReal

t scott-miller's avatardhamma for mama*

I was pissed!

Once again, despite my wholehearted intentions and efforts, another Wednesday evening had arrived and, instead of meditating with my root sangha (Buddhist meditation community), I was at home.

Feeling exhausted, out of sync, and in deep need of restoring myself in a place of uninterrupted quiet where I could relax my busy mind with the steady flow of my breath and invite the precious moment-to-moment, non-judgmental awareness that defines mindfulness.

So I was unduly pissed at myself for not being organized (or awake) enough to get there, my mate for not making it easier for me, and all those unforeseeable or unavoidable forces that arose in the course of a day and became “obstacles” to my practice. Adding to my irritation: knowing that I now lived a few minutes away from the temple yet was faced with detours and delays that made getting there seem like a…

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embodied practice: reclaiming the spirit of wonder

Recall the religion you practiced as a child. Not the religion you were tutored in,
but the religion before religion, when the vast Heaven and wondrous Earth were truly one…
Can you remember what it was like to walk in the midst of a world of miracles?
Can you remember ever traveling within a world of pure delight with a joy untainted by craving or aversion?

~Frank Jude Boccio, Mindfulness Yoga

learning together: teaching as a collaboration

I begin every class by asking practitioners what their bodies need that day. I invite them to make requests: 1) for particular poses that they’ve either found helpful or challenging and wish to explore; and 2) for parts of the body that need attention, making special note of any new injuries or sensitivities.

There are times when this invitation is met with blank, self-conscious stares and silence. (Typically when it’s a brand-new group or when I’m subbing for another teacher.)  When this happens, I pose it another way: Where are you holding tension? What needs to be stretched? What needs to be strengthened?

Finally, a quiet murmur from a hesitant voice dares to reveal in a room (most often) full of strangers a perceived weakness: a knee or shoulder, lower back, neck or hamstrings that chronically and persistently ails. Now come the echoes of agreement! Oh, the relief at knowing we’re not the only one suffering.

I’ve been teaching for 7 years, and it puzzles me that, in a yoga class of all places, people (read: adults of all ages, beginning and experienced students alike) appear reluctant to respond to this invitation to fully participate in creating their experience on the mat.

________________________

Is it the awkwardness of public speaking?
Is it just wanting to turn off the efforts of the thinking mind after a long day to simply enjoy being led?
Are students deferring to the skill of the teacher because they have no preference?
Or, do they really not know/understand how to listen to what is happening in their body?
Do they not feel empowered to ask?
____________________________

Naturally, beginning students feel like they don’t know enough to ask. But then I think: Well, what would you say to a massage therapist or medical professional who asked you to describe the sensations in your body and where you’re feeling them?

What about experienced practitioners who are reticent? Are they keeping quiet because they think the teacher should have a plan or because they don’t wish to appear as if they are challenging the teacher? Have they never been asked to consider these questions before?

In far too many instances, I suspect that it is the latter reason. Some teachers are either not approachable or are not creating an atmosphere where questions and curiosities are openly welcomed. It may not be intentional; however, the lack of awareness and connection between such teachers and their students becomes apparent when those students reveal, through the questions and observations they pose to me, disparities in teaching (philosophy, skill, etc.) and communication styles.

In a recent conversation, a practitioner expressed concern about her physical discomfort when doing a particular sequence of movements in class taught by another teacher. After guiding her once more through modifications I had just taught the group, I asked whether she’d ever talked with the other teacher about this. She paused thoughtfully and realized that she hadn’t–in part, because she was deferring to that instructor’s style and because of the well-noted rigor of the class itself.

My question gave her new perspective. Instead of outright dropping the class, she agreed to first speak with the instructor. I encouraged her to then base her decision on how that instructor received her questions and, when tested, whether that answer ultimately served to eliminate her discomfort and enhance her practice. I added that such feedback helps us learn how to teach our students!

Situations like that are common. So it has long been my practice to encourage students to respectfully approach any and every teacher to inform them of their injuries or sensitivities, to ask questions, and to make requests. It is how we teachers learn to listen, observe, instruct clearly, and respond skillfully to students–whether by modifying poses or by offering an all-together different pose option to accommodate the diversity in body type, range of motion, skill level (to name a few) in our rooms. It is how we teachers continue to develop our skills.

So it is important for me to invite practitioners to co-create the practice with me. When that connection and openness has been established, requests will pour in before I can even ask…sometimes the moment they walk in the door! I do this with the intention to empower students to make the practice their own: to help them discover how to listen and respond skillfully to their bodies on and off the mat.

We feel different in body, heart, and mind everyday. So–even if we move through the same poses time and again–our yoga practice is different! Honoring what we are experiencing in the present moment not only keeps us safe in our practice, but also deepens our intimate understanding of ourselves, strengthens our intuitive powers, and nourishes in our hearts the sense of compassion, resilience and trust we have for ourselves.

At the end, I thank everyone for helping to create the practice. Yes, I am an experienced teacher who offers them tools to stretch, stabilize and strengthen the body as well as to relax, understand, sort, settle and honor the heart and mind. But it is very rare that I come in with a pre-planned sequence. (Why? Inevitably, a new student will show up without any previous experience or a regular student will have a new ache or injury. Whoosh! Out goes the plan.) Instead I arrive with the intention to teach spontaneously from a mix of intuition, knowledge, and observation. What I teach then is inspired by the present-moment needs of the practitioners because they are the experts of their own bodies and, as such, the co-creators of their yoga experience.

{originally published 22 aug 2013 now-defunct dharma yoga arts blog}

What Part of You is Free?

“He who argues for his limitations gets to keep them.” ~ Richard Bach

Wow! To be “committed to stuck-ness”
Such a powerful statement about an equally powerful position to be caught in:
gripped by pain, fear, anger, self-doubt, feelings of helplessness and defeat.

Constantly hearing the voice of the inner critic calling out our flaws and weaknesses. We wince and turn away. Our vision now obstructed, dimmed.

To reframe this question (to refresh our perspective and broaden the view) is to unravel what has us so tightly bound.

This is a timely contemplation for our practice of awakening the voice of self-compassion and love. This voice speaks in gentle and reassuring tones with discernment and wisdom.
We open our eyes to witness the illusions dissolve, remembering that what makes us whole and free is not always visible to the unskilled eye.

Related

Yogic concept + practice of Pratipaksha Bhavana

Linda Stone's avatarLinda Stone

This post was written several years ago.  I’m feeling great these days and ready to post some of the things written in darker moments…

From January 2010

I’m lying in bed and the right side of my body is frozen.  I’m right-handed.  I want to get up and the thought alone isn’t getting me there.  I remember something my doctor said, “When you wake up, pay attention to what is working.  Put all your attention on that.” 

I scan my body.   My left arm is great.   Okay, left arm, show me what you can do.  I reach to grab one of the headboard spindles, and use my left arm to roll over and hoist myself up.  My left leg is working pretty well, too.  I lean against the wall and drag myself into the bathroom.  Home run.  I may be right-handed, but my left arm rules.

A few…

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new year, new name, new site

dharma yoga arts

will now be known as

3 Jewels Yoga

ALL NEW POSTS WILL APPEAR ON THE NEW SITE + THIS WILL REMAIN AN ARCHIVE.

PLEASE FOLLOW 3 JEWELS FOR THE LATEST MUSINGS ABOUT MOVEMENT + MINDFULNESS + MEDITATION!

I offer my deepest gratitude to all who have supported +
followed my journey as dharma yoga arts over the years.