Gratitude in the least likely places

I’m resharing this post I wrote a few years ago when I was deep in post-concussion healing. Today, I’m much stronger and more resilient but I still can’t fling through sun saluations or kick up into a headstand but I’m not longer wishing for what was. I’ve managed to pivot and celebrate each small thing my body can do. I’ve found a new level of acceptance in the places where there was grief for what I lost. I’ve found gratitude from the smallest movements, which is far richer than any handstand ever offered.

4 years ago: On my mat this morning I yearned for a backbend. 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.

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, it made me stop. The pause brought me to a truth I don’t like - 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 can’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 grief and resistance of my 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.