I'm on a yoga journey, which is wonderful and peaceful and enlightening, and also very hard. I have this terrible nagging pain in my shoulder. To lift my arms up like this took some deep breaths and very slow movements. Stil, I got it up there. My shoulder pain affects every facet of my day. Sometimes the frustration has been overwhelming. I just can't move the way I want.
I've had to move differently. But during this yoga practice, something shifted for me. I noticed that because I couldn't just sweep my arms up quickly over my head, I was having to really pull from my core, ground in my legs, and pull up from within.
That sparked. I was moving from a deeper place of center because my body was forcing me to do so. That deeper place is a better place. I have often tried to change myself from the outside in---creating programs, spinning my arms, setting goals. But what if I moved differently. What if I centered myself first and let the change come from my core?
Those thoughts settled into a new poem. I'm venturing back into poetry after a LONG hiatus (it has to do with middle school trauma. . more on that later.) Here you go, and with this poem I send out permission to myself and anyone that needs it: Move From the Center.
Every yoga move pauses me.
I wince, bracing for the pain.
reaching for the milk
putting on my coat
It All Hurts.
So. . . I move differently.
From my center
I pull from within
I start from the other side.
This frustrates me.
Unless it doesn’t.
I drop the picture into a new frame and take a look.
As I become my warrior with only one arm extended
I do not blame or shame my arm that is bent.
I name it: Gift.
The gift is to move from within instead of the flailing without.
To honor my center, my soul, my movement, my pace.
And even yes, my pain.
I like that new frame. I'll hang it on my wall and begin again.