My unceremonious decline had me land with a thud that reverberated throughout my entire body. I remember whimpering in pain and couldn’t help but notice that it took a long time for me to get up and recover – both in that moment and in the months that followed.
I literally got my arse handed to me – an expression I was often fond of saying in jest, but one I no longer use – for obvious reasons. Thousands of dollars and numerous hours of therapy later, I am still incredibly humbled.
My left hip and right buttock are slowly on the mend, but the back of my right leg is experiencing the same level of pain that I felt when I first fell. If I sit for too long, I need to use my hands to pick myself up and even as I type this post, the dull achey pain in my hamstring is really distracting me.
In recent months, I observed the desire in myself to heal quickly from the ‘boring’ injury and eliminate the pain so I could stretch as quickly as possible. It showed up when I would practice physical asana. In previous yoga incarnations, my nose would effortlessly graze my right shin as I’d fold forward and be rewarded with a nice release in my hamstring.
These days, leaning forward to grab the salt and pepper during dinner makes my face grimace in pain. And as for the yoga part of my life? Even extending my right leg forward is enough of a stretch, that the mere thought of leaning any part of my upper body forward causes my muscle twinge in protest.
Since the fall, I find that I can no longer separate the spiritual and the physical. How can I claim to love meditation yet feel irritated at my body for not bouncing back like it used to? In recent months, the slow recovery has been my meditation.
It seemed timely when I stumbled on a recent post from Danielle La Porte that made me contemplate my irritability ‘I let the pain soften me. I let the joy soften me. I let the desire soften me’.
There is so much strength and power in vulnerability because it’s so honest and raw. I truly believe that the Universe helps us manifest quicker when we stand tall in the space of our truth.
It’s the sacred ‘Sat Nam’ that I chant continuously when I practice kundalini yoga – when translated in simple terms, it means, ‘my name is truth’, but when we delve a little deeper, I truly believe that it means something more like ‘I vibrate with the highest vibration of truth that resonates with my highest alignment’
It’s a lesson I have learned continuously over the years in regard to my relationship to myself, with others and ultimately my relationship with Spirit. Truth trumps everything else, because the more honest you can be, the less work you need to do in order to maintain a false facade.
I know this because I’ve watched my business positively boom when I have honored my truth and have said no to opportunities that felt wrong. I’ve also seen my friendships and personal relationships blossom when I have chosen not to appease others at a cost to my own principles.
The work I do on myself and with my clients pays homage to the old adage that is as ancient as one of the 4 Noble Truths according to Buddhist Studies and as modern as NLP training – ‘the greatest cause of suffering is the desire for things to be different’.
I watch myself spiral into an unnecessary vortex of unhappiness every time I wish ‘this project would finish quicker’ or ‘life would be awesome, better, easier if only..’ and the truth is every time I lament something like this, it causes a leak in my energetic frequency.
It’s both unkind and unnecessary because by plugging into a source of influence that is external me, I lessen my own power by diminishing my potential for growth.
To intellectually understand that our thoughts words and actions can have an impact on others is one thing, but to embody this through the kindness of our self talk, is what makes the real difference in our recovery and processing of pain.
I hope your self talk is as kind as the advice you give to the ones you love, and as loving as the words you deserve to hear every day. Sending you some love as well, Patty xx