It has been no secret to the people that know me how obsessed I have been with Yoga since November of 2018. While my body is taking its own sweet little time showing results, which may be the result of my refusal to give up queso and wine, it has done wonders for my general well being.
Yoga gives me a sense of clarity and calmness that in a way has become a mini addiction. When I had to take a week off after my tennis elbow came back, I missed it more than I expected and decided I would still try and continue going, despite the pain.
This morning we had to take Dawson to the doctor for the regular blood work he has to do since he had Sepsis back in August. I was anxious to get back to our side of town and get Dawson back to school after a long Spring Break so I could make my beloved 12:00-1:00 Bikram class.
During the car ride home, I asked Greg for suggestions or ideas for a blog post, and naturally, he came up with topics that had me laughing and ended up being zero help. I figured something would eventually come to me, and as usual, it did.
I made it in time for my class, and within the first few minutes, my elbow was on fire. I started to get frustrated that the poses I did with ease a few weeks ago, now were almost impossible. Halfway through the class, there is a two-minute Shavasana, which a fancy word for laying down and relaxing before you start back up again for the second half.
As you lay there, you're not supposed to let your mind wander which is hard for me anyway, and all I could think about was how mad I was getting that my tennis elbow was back once again. *@!* my tennis elbow, I don't even play tennis!
Yes, I actually was cursing at my tennis elbow in my head as I was laying there, NOT what I was supposed to be doing, and realized how dramatic I was being about something so incredibly small. Especially after attending a fundraiser this weekend for children and adults that had far more challenging issues ranging from amputees to autism and everything in between.
During that two-minute Shavasana, I became ashamed of myself. I began to think about all the families I met this weekend and those honorees that had every reason in the world to complain. Instead, I never saw such happy people in my life, all with a life long physical or mental disability.
I also thought about Dawson going through his own life without even having the option to complain or verbally express when he has pain or discomfort. And there I was, irritated at a little tennis elbow that will eventually go away or get fixed at some point.
You better believe by the end of those two minutes, I was back to myself and enjoying the rest of my class. Instead of feeling frustrated at 10% of the pain, I became grateful that I was 90%, free from any pain at all.
I think if we all focused on that more significant percentage of things in our life that is pain-free, things like a little tennis elbow wouldn't seem so terrible after all. Best of all, it took less than two minutes to get there.
Namaste my friends!