Zoom Out 3/8/18

You are no less miraculous than a leaf/tide/nucleotide/starburst/root system/flake of snow/gravity/conception/embryo who germinates and folds inward again and again in water. You are no less complex than quantum leaps across the endings of nerves/galaxies/the dance along ridges of gossamer tissue and mitochondrial gorges/how logic shows up in only in brief glints and magic in tangential meanderings/capillary avatars; you are no less complicated than the ocean. We don’t know. We know a little. Humbly, we ride along in vehicles of light taking best guesses at the micro and macrocosms we comprise.

Why or what did you do to get here to this niggling pain? I don’t know in the slightest/I have ideas. My sixth sense is stronger now and if I listen, I can learn. I know there are buckets of answers/olympic sized pools of answers/answers that just lead to more questions. It may be your cerebellum/parietal lobe/peripheral nervous system/fifth cranial nerve/the way you were held/fuzzy maps/all these scars/your fillings/the water/your shoes. It may be the driving/traffic/desk job/boss/marriage/weather/money-troubles/genes/epigenetics/house/air/cat/allergies/nightshades. You could investigate. There may also be questions from which you’d benefit abandoning.  

We could go back to the beginning. Birth/feeding/daycare/homecare/illness/medicine/furniture/shoes/ballet class/football injuries/baseball/horseback riding/car crash/mirror neurons/your mother’s mental illness/religion/your parents’ bodies/shame/fear/being forced to clear your plate/corporeal punishment/siblings/beliefs. 

You ask, what led to this sudden blocked movement/building-for-a-lifetime pattern/one-sided dominance/lazy eye/clumsy joint/bulging disc/pinched nerve/non-existent cartilage? What should I do for my quads/hips/ankle/neck/traps/IT band/TMJ? It runs in my family you point out. I have a knot you explain, I have a trigger point/what is a trigger point/is that a muscle or bone/is that a muscle or tendon/what is that/do you feel a knot/what does it feel like/do you feel anything/is it very different from the other side/it’s nothing like the other side.

You wonder and you say, what did I do/I know what I did/I don’t know how it happened/I’ve tried everything/I haven’t tried anything yet. You’re going to a PT now/a chiropractor/for an MRI/to a specialist/you know what to do/you’re good at doing homework/you’re terrible at doing homework/you have exercises if only you could do them/if only you were disciplined.

You may say, what should I do for my shoulder/my back/what can I do for my feet...change my shoes? Oh no my pants are all hemmed for heels. What stretch can you recommend/what mattress/what bag/chair/desk/what’s the correct alignment/tell me if I’m doing something wrong/I’m doing my own thing/don’t pay any attention to me/how long do we have to do this/what is the point of this? I just need to strengthen my glutes/my core/I just need to rest/I just need shivasana/can we just lie down/I just need better posture/I just need yoga, my doctor recommended yoga.

Your classes are not enough of a workout you say one day, not meditative enough/too much yoga/not enough classic yoga/not like the description/too advanced/too much like the other exercise classes you do/not enough movement/ you love what I'm doing/you miss the old days/I'm ahead of the curve/you love learning new things/you like tradition.

All I can do is speculate about the captivating tumbling mystery of us, I say. I can keep learning. I might not know. I can suggest things for moving more/moving therapeutically/moving toward wholeness. I say, you know what I can do for all of you students/friends/those of who grace my classroom/table/patch of ground for whatever time we have? I can hold out hope. I can hold your experience tenderly as a broken-winged bird/baby. I can hold your reality. I can hold space for inquiry/fear/wishing. I can hold your head/feet and then we can try things and we can wrap our arms together to make the holding strong.

Erin JadeComment