I returned to my yoga practice this past week.
And it was hard.
Much harder than I thought it was going to be and they were both VERY easy classes -- both classes that were pieces of cake prior to my surgeries.
I had lofty ideas that after taking November off that I would be able to do the easier and Restorative classes at my yoga studio. It became clear by the beginning of December that there was no way that I could. I wasn't even ready to drive by myself until a couple of weeks before Christmas.
I was okay with being homebound since I was in so much discomfort, but I do have to admit that my pride was wounded.
I know that my level of physical fitness has helped me in my recovery, but the fact that I have a hard time not using my abdominal muscles is messing with my mind.
I love to exercise. I love the adrenalin rush. I'm also scared of not being fit.
I am also so scared of gaining weight.*
I'm scared of turning into an unattractive blob.
And today when I had a hard time getting into the once very easy posture (anything that involves lying flat on my back is a challenge), I heard that voice inside of my head.
A voice that berated, rather than was patient with my healing body.
I should've celebrated the fact that I survived a week of work with my challenging class. I should've celebrated the fact that I made it to TWO yoga classes, one of which was after school. But instead, it was the not-so-nice voice that came into my head.
So as I was doing a gentle spinal twist, one that used to be quite the simple feat for my usually flexible self, I thought, "You need to learn something from this."
And the word humility came to mind.
I am not good at being humble. I am not good at asking for help. And I am definitely not good at being patient with my body.
So as I look down at my little rounded belly, I have to stop the voice in my head from calling myself ugly names. What I have to do is remember that I'm still healing and that my discomfort and inabilities are temporary (although I'm still a bit surprised as to how uncomfortable I was last week. My body did not like going back to work at all!).
Hopefully in six months I will be able to go for a power walk or jog around the gym with my class, but if I can't I will be okay.
Or better yet, I'll have a rounded belly for another reason....
One can only hope.
*For those of you that have met me in real life I know that I'm not overweight. I have body image issues. I grew up with a mother that called me ugly and fat -- and yes, I went through a few years of therapy. I know that I'm not fat.