Figure it out Culberg!

Last night I fell asleep in my daughter Lucia's bed at 8:45pm. It's a pretty common Wednesday night ritual in our house. Every Wednesday for the last six or seven years I have woken up between 4:00am-4:30am to be able to get coffee and still have time to get the studio ready for the 6:00am Yoga class.  On Wednesday nights, our reading ritual is always cut short because my eyes involuntarily close. I love that my 10 year old will still have me; I know it won't be long before she thinks I'm a total goober 24/7.

At midnight, a sharp pain in my knee woke me up. It was the familiar yank that I felt right after I injured it more than three weeks ago in Mexico. I thought it was getting better. I've tried to stay off of it as much as possible. Swimming has been my most strenuous activity. I'm not even walking to the grocery store or to the lake. How sedentary can I get without losing my mind? I'm an endorphin junkie. I need to move. I am not myself if I cannot sweat, breathe hard, ache a little bit.

But that pain last night wasn't good. I don't want to feel that again. I am committed to getting on the road to recovery, not staying on this tenuous path of moderate activity. So today I am resting. Completely. I drove three blocks to the hardware store on Capitol Hill this morning. I parked close to the bank. When I got home I had so much extra time! No Yoga. No running. Not even a walk!

I made a list for myself. There's studio business to take care of. I have house bills to pay. I'm still hashing out Lucia's summer schedule and getting everyone's SweatBox vacation schedules dealt with.  I baked 800 bran muffins to freeze and 40 pounds of granola that I'll now have to figure out what to do with. I have a bunch of sewing I want to do. But it's not the same. The weather outside is the perfect temperature for running. It's overcast and the sun is intermittently peeking out. I can see the lake. I can smell it.

My sister, a non-exerciser, asked me what I could do instead of exercising. What the hell does that mean? My answer was "meditate." But honestly, that's not helping. Well, maybe it's helping a little bit....

The timing of this injury is not great. My partner Nancy, also a daily exerciser, has been unable to do yoga, run, spin for over a month due to a car-accident induced concussion. In addition to the effects from the concussion (headache, sound sensitivity, irritability), Nancy has been LOSING her mind from not exercising. When it first happened to her I felt bad. I thought I had empathy for her situation. But now I really get it.  Limited physical activity really challenges people who have an endorphin habit.

Watching Nancy and now, noticing my own sedentary-induced angst, makes me dig a little deeper about how to get what I need. Is it possible? I know people do it. Look at Stephen Hawking!  I'm still hashing out how to get from my mind what I am accustomed to getting from my body. It's frustrating, but I admit that it is a worthwhile exercise. I know my current physical state is temporary, and for that I am grateful. But, there will come a day, maybe far in the future, maybe sooner, when I might be faced with even more limits, and a gal can only bake so many bran muffins.

What would Stephen Hawking do?

"When one's expectations are reduced to zero, one really appreciates everything one does have."

Stephen Hawking

Last week I saw the movie The Theory of Everything, the biography of Stephen Hawking. As most of you know, Hawking was struck with ALS when he was twenty-one years old. The syndrome eventually rendered him wheelchair bound, debilitated to the point of essentially living in paralyzed body with virtually no effects on his mind.  Now Hawking, in his seventies, has defied all odds in surviving this long with ALS.

My family went to see this film at the request of my 10-year-old daughter Lucia who is all about math right now. My partner Nancy, Lucia, and I sat in the movie shoving popcorn in our mouths between bouts of sobs. Even Lucia cried throughout the movie.  After dinner, over sushi, we talked about Hawking and how clear his mind was, how amazing his long life has been. In our iPhone research at the sushi counter, we learned that the average life span of someone diagnosed with ALS is 2-5 years, with five percent living twenty years or more. Hawking has surpassed even the small number of people who survive longer than a handful of years. Why?

There was, of course, the deep deep love and commitment of his wife and family, the energy and support he received from his academic community, his motivation to learn more about time and space. But even with all of this love and support, I am astounded by how much mental and emotional strength Hawking must have to have lived and worked for as long as he has.

Whether I am practicing or teaching yoga, I am aware of the inherent conflicts that exist between the body and the mind. Sometimes you feel ready mentally to kick out in Standing-Head-to-Knee; you've made your plan for the day's practice and kicking out is on the docket. But when you do it, your body says no to balance or your stamina disappoints. Other days you are completely unmoored mentally and/or emotionally and, even if your body is ready for it, you can't muster the motivation to go for the kick. 

My advice to myself and to my students when conflict in practice arises is to "be where you are", to make space for all of it. If you can't balance, it's not because your body is failing you, it is because, in this moment, you can't balance. If we can accept that moment in time and move on from it, let it go, then we step away from the conflict that comes from wishing we could balance or hold the posture. Ultimately it's not imbalance that creates the conflict; it's the unmet expectation. Solution- get rid of the expectations.

Stephen Hawking slowly, consciously, painfully watched his body succumb to limitation after limitation until ultimately, his physical body was rendered useless, just a shell to house his brilliant mind.  When I think of him, I imagine much of his long life has been an exercise in reconciling the conflicts between his body and his mind. While his body was shutting down, his mind was thriving, vibrant, brilliant. If Hawking had spent his energy fixating on the evolving presentation of limits to his body, could his mind have grown as it did? I imagine not.

Yoga practice is a place where we can learn and grow, physically and mentally, ideally a space where we can be at peace, free of conflict. It is a time where we enter into a different space. Leave your expectations at the door. As you lay down your mat, make up your mind to open your mind to whatever comes to you that day. And, as Stephen Hawking tells us, you might "really appreciate what [you] do have."