Several months ago, I found myself with yet another sports injury. I wasn't able to get into an appropriate doctor until the end of the summer, so I reached out to my yoga therapist to see if she'd do a virtual consult.
As I explained to her, my fear wasn't so much about the injury (I knew there was nothing I could do about it at that point). My concern was that I didn't feel any pain leading up to it, nor did I feel the injury happen. In truth, I had no idea how I even got injured.
As an athlete with hypermobility, I struggle a lot with proprioception (think "awareness of one's body"). Given the laxity in my connective tissue, I wondered if I had missed a pain cue altogether.
In the wondrous world of circus, so much of what we do doesn't feel particularly great, so the ability to discern what is "bad pain" is vitally important. Unfortunately in my case, I often don't feel much of anything unless I deliberately try to do so.
This was not the first time the two of us had met to discuss proprioception. In fact, I've worked with my yoga therapist for several years on this issue. She's had me meditate, practice body scans, recall sensations, roll on the floor feeling my kinetic chain... you name it. At times, I've felt frustrated (i.e. why is the basic act of feeling my body so incredibly difficult?), but I've also had moments of seeing my efforts transform how I navigate the world.
Yesterday, I experienced two types of sensations that resulted from pressure.
The first was "bad pain." It was deep aching in my shoulders and neck. It was cumulative throughout the day- a warning sign that I needed to pause. I knew it was "bad," but I also knew it was fixable.
I wrote myself a prescription to get a meal out and go to the park with a friend. To high five him for finally washing his bed sheets and laugh about the fact that I still hadn't done mine. To watch ducks awkwardly waddle around the perimeter of a pond and then learn (thank you, Google) that they actually have the athletic ability to fly 50 miles per hour for up to eight hours at a time. To give myself a funny little reminder that I can pull things off.
And then there was this other sensation from pressure.
A client reached out and let me know that her instructor needed to pull out of an event last minute that involved over 300 college students. She wondered if I could step in this morning to take the spot.
My heart rate increased as I read the message. Then I felt a sense of expansiveness that told me I absolutely could move forward.
This, my dear friends, is discernment. Because it's my constant nemesis, in many ways it has become my superpower.
As I spent my morning sipping espresso and giving business advice to a virtual room of eager faces, I felt so much gratitude wash over me- not just for my career but also for the wisdom to know when to pause, when to pull back, and when to enthusiastically step forward.
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