All too often, we humans keep ourselves moving in the same patterns. We have what we perceive of as our boundaries and rarely do we stray from them.
It’s not often that people question or challenge how we move through this life… unless we do.
Some of the topics we discussed however have tied neatly in together in the mind of this crazy yogini.
First up – a discussion about yoga practice – and how the so-called limitations of the body are in fact only limitations of the mind.
Flexibility of the body, we agreed, isn’t ‘fixed’. Under anaesthetic, human beings enjoy a full range of motion (well we might enjoy it if we weren’t knocked out cold). Yet when we’re ‘awake’, many people can’t so much as touch their toes.
And we talked about how surprising it can be sometimes when ‘suddenly’ you find it possible to do certain yoga poses (asana) when previously you couldn’t. But, actually, it’s possible you’ve been building up your capacity for some time and it’s just that you still thought you couldn’t (my detested chattaranga is improving all the time!).
Then today – nattering over IM as usual, we started approaching darker topics for both of us… although at first very light-heartedly… then I suddenly found myself on somewhat shaky ground. A question came up, one I couldn’t answer directly.
But – I felt brave enough to try to provide the answer, if somewhat cryptically. The only way I could get it out was to provide clues pointing the way.
Even that much though, was really, really hard. It was enough to bring pain to my throat and tears to my eyes. But I wanted to try, anyway. It felt like a moment of possibility, one I could choose to ignore, or go for it and see what happened.
Jay thought it was a little odd I didn’t seem to mind telling him the things I did (even if he did have to guess through my clues) – it’s just that for me, getting the information out… well, it’s the thing that hurts so very, very much.
Yet despite a little anxiety this evening, I’m doing okay. Much better than I thought I’d be.
And it’s a step in the right direction.
Because really, unless I try… then how will I ever find my way out of this darkness?
Sure, during that conversation I felt incredibly vulnerable. But sometimes that’s the point when I feel the most open to attempt something new. As scary as it might feel, it’s even scarier to think my only option is retreating away each and every time.
And just like taking another crack at an asana you’ve always found difficult… if you don’t try you’ll never know. Your attempt requires you to stretch both your body and mind just a little more than before. Until finally, you find you’re already there.
There’s still a lot of information I’m not okay with voicing. And I know why, I think.
Something my therapist said is that perhaps this assault was the proverbial straw so to speak… the final extra load I couldn’t carry.
There’s more, you see.
Much more – some of which I’ve shared here a little, but there’s much that I haven’t.
I think it’s true, that there’s been some kind of slow toxic build up. So my terror, the suffering – all of it – isn’t really just about Andre and that one night.
And I’m hoping as I get braver, that digging deeper into the mire is something I can do.
Part of the problem though, is that while being assaulted was something I couldn’t control… possibly there are things in my past that I did have control over.
Things I feel shame and guilt about. And I certainly wonder what anyone reading here might think if I were to write about them. I wonder if they’d judge me, form different ideas in their minds about who I am?
I don’t know really. But I’m willing to try.