Something wonderful happened a few weeks ago (and this morning), but today seems an apropos time to share it. I got into a headstand. Not all that surprising, considering I’ve been practicing yoga since 1999.
Still, this was a heartwarming achievement for me. I tore my left rotator cuff last winter. I was in agony for a couple of months. A simple trip on the sidewalk would send me into indescribable pain, and my hand would go slack. Even sleep was difficult. I kept rolling onto the bad side and waking myself up. It has been a slow and uncomfortable recovery, and I’m still working to regain all the mobility in my left arm.
For the most part, I have succeeded in seeing this whole experience as just another one of those things; just a challenge meant to be overcome. During the hardest part, though, I worried I might never be able to do a number of things, including stand on my head, and it brought me to tears. Yoga is my bliss, my consolation, my center, my serenity, my sanity. I knew I would adjust and accept if it wasn’t meant to be. After all, that’s one of the things I’ve learned since I began practicing.
Words cannot express my gratitude and joy at regaining something I had prepared myself to lose. My teacher used to say, “A little, and a little, and a little.” That’s what got me here. Perseverance and persistence, and a whole lot of hope. I got me here, by getting on that mat and not giving up. And I don’t intend to ever do so.
It’s the small things you do every day, without really seeing the results, until the luxury of time and perspective allow you to look back and connect the dots. They mean more than the large milestones. They’re the unsung heroes of our lives, making it better in such tiny increments that the wonderful parts sometimes sneak up on us.
I wish you many small victories!