It doesn’t happen immediately. The pain does not reveal its gifts in the moment it consumes the body, prevents simple tasks and distracts the mind from its priorities. The gift is wrapped tightly in a process of discovery.
It starts with denial and the pushing through of daily chores, popping the occasional Ibuprofen and believing the pain a temporary and annoying obstacle. A few days later, prescriptions of rest come flying from loved ones concerned about the escalation of the pain. And it does escalate.
Frustration follows rest as the lists get longer, the laundry piles up and the forward bends that used to come so readily all but shatter in the shadow of memory.
If you’re lucky enough for the pain to continue without lessening, sooner or later, acceptance settles in. Acceptance does not mean giving in, rather it is the experience of letting go the expectation that the pain will disappear in a neatly tied-up time frame. It also can inspire a mission.
I am on a mission. And I am not my pain.
When I received this particular gift, I had several weeks left of my 200 hour yoga teacher training. The worst part was that I wasn’t able to swim the in the deep end with the others in my class. I was forced to wade by the steps, modify everything and slow down. I guess that part was the ribbon I had to unravel to get to the goodies.
The herniated disc (which may or may not be the source of the pain*) and constant sciatic sensations force me to surround myself with props: blankets and bolsters and blocks, oh my!
Viewing my practice through a fresh lens inside a body requiring a new map to navigate it, began to reveal the subtleties of pain’s gift. Where I had been convinced that I had tamed the ego beast, I now discovered that it had the ability to seep through the cracks of my yoga identity. I know now, where there is pain, there is no room for ego.
My pre-pain self that could touch the center of the earth in a standing forward bend, now smiles as my flat back folds its few inches, barely increasing the angle of my rooted Tadasana. I still long for the feeling of the deeper fold, but I am here now and am endeavoring to find the nourishing feeling of this new place.
Like the child who receives the toy she’s been begging for, and when she gets it, plays with it for a day or two and conveniently forgets all about it, I don’t want to stop appreciating these many gifts. My fear is that the pain is continuing to keep these lessons learned and not forgotten.
Empathy is a big part of what is contained in this gift; it also informs a major part of my mission and that is to share these nuggets with others who have yet to unwrap their pain. It will be part of my daily practice to meditate on these revelations so that I’m not destined to keep receiving this sacred gift.
As I write this, my left foot is falling asleep from the pinch in my nerve and the pin point of pain in my sacroiliac (SI) joint keeps me alert to the present moment. Still, I look forward to taking the classes led by my peers from the training and deepening my practice and understanding of pain’s gift.
But where do I throw the wrapping paper?
* Recommended reading for anyone suffering from neck, shoulder or back pain: “Healing Back Pain ~ The Mind Body Connection” by John Sarno, MD