Post Concussion Yoga

On my mat this morning I yearned for a backbend but not any backbend. I wanted the opening that I associate with bow pose, Dhanurasana. I lay on my stomach, bent my knees and held my ankles. Then I stopped. I realized it was happening again. I was doing yoga through my body memories, not through the present moment.

My twenty years of yoga practice gives me intimate experience with asanas. They are like friends I want to visit and connect with. Without thought, my body naturally moves on these familiar paths, making regular stops in places I have been countless times before. As I move, I feel like I am present. My breathing is relaxed. I am allowing not pushing but I realize a deeper level of presence is required.

Post concussion, my brain still protects the old wound. I am vulnerable to aggravations from the slightest causes. A pose with too much torque in my spinal dura can cause spasms. Too much blood flow to my head leaves residual dizziness. My challenge is to feel the micro movements in the moment and respect my current limit.

On my mat today, when I realized I was in autopilot going into Dhanurasana, it made me stop. The pause brought me to a truth I don’t like, which makes it hard to swallow. I am fed up with being physically limited. I don’t want to move cautiously and carefully to protect my head. I want to fling through some vigorous sun salutations and kick up into a handstand, yet I know I shouldn’t do either.

Until I felt my tears, I wasn’t aware how sad I was or how much pressure it was causing me. Who knows, maybe some of the tension I attribute to post-concussion syndrome is actually caused by resisting my current physical reality.

By the end of my practice, I let go of the frustration, the longing for what was, the yearning for the poses I can’t do. I understood that this injury keeps teaching me to be present in ways I couldn’t have imagined. When the frustration lifted, I found myself full of gratitude. Unexpected but true.