A few months ago I started noticing there was a little discomfort in my wrist even in a mild pose like hands & knees (also known as table pose). I would slightly change the poses at the beginning of my yoga practice to alleviate the discomfort. Then, one day about a month I couldn't put weight on my left wrist with my palm on the floor at all. In the past, when I have experienced a mild to medium dis-ease or borderline injury I have taken the opportunity to take a full-fledge break-- switching to running, swimming or pilates. Injuries are always frustrating, confusing and sometimes something so small seems to take over my life, especially because I am professional yoga teacher. This one was no different, although this time I was downright indignant. I teach four to five classes a week and
need to practice before I teach. Many of my yoga teachers have often spoken about learning from your injury, teaching from the wisdom that it can offer. This was always a hypothetical for me, and I figured that was
after you returned to full health. I was feeling gimpy, inadequate and frustrated as I wondered "How can you practice from that? How can you teach from that?!" Life and my classes were continuing with or without me.
Focus on what you can do, Not what you can't
I finally decided, after a visit to my acupuncturist, that I would stay away from putting weight on my wrist in extension for a month. This removed plank, chaturanga (the yoga push-up), arm balances and handstands from my daily practice; which was a big part of my day to day routine. After a week, I suddenly noticed I was occasionally demonstrating these poses in class (
this would become the most difficult hurdle in my recovery). The commitment to myself was going to be harder than I expected, until I shifted my focus to other poses: balancing and extension poses like utthita padagustansana (hand to big toe pose); forearm stand; frog; headstands; the list goes on and on. I was focusing on flexibility and opening up my shoulder girdle, which brought a new softness to my personal yoga practice and teaching. My change in perspective was opening up new possibilities and altered my emotional state as well by focusing on the positive, rather than the one perceived negative.
And then don't blame the bridge...
Our attitude toward a place of injury is usually quite negative and often places blame. It is common to hear the phrase, "oh this is my problem shoulder" or "I have a bad knee". This phrase-ology would fundamentally imply that the knee itself did something wrong of its own volition. My Tai Chi says a chronic knee injury is due to a argument between your hips and ankles. We would never accuse a bridge blown up as a casualty of a war, a "bad bridge"-- so the same perspective can be applied to the knee, shoulder, back, whichever part of the body ails you, especially if it is a joint. For the knee problems strengthening the ankle and opening up the flexibility of the hip to discover the proper alignment of the knee in athletic pursuits and daily habits many ails can be fixed from within. It may take years and many of us don't want to listen that carefully, thoroughly and mindfully to the whispering creaks until they incapacitates the whole body. I can't blame my wrist it is a small relatively weak joint that must overcompensate for my tight shoulder girdle, and that I often push myself through a strong practice.
Magic?
We can switch from a position of blame to one of curiosity and compassion. Many of my AcroYoga colleagues refer to a place of injury, or or dis-ease as "magical" because that place holds so much potential: an opportunity to listen deeply to the whispering discomforts of the body; to repattern that which is not working; to learn from within how to be more compassionate, nurturing and kind to our bodies first and foremost. It can be easier, for me, to be nicer to others than it is to be nicer to myself, so if I am really truly kind to myself in every way that I need, I wonder how much easier it will become to be more friendly, generous and considerate to others?
I felt like I had tried "everything else", so I committed to drinking eight to nine glasses a day. In the beginning, I had an App on my iPhone that helped me keep track. Now I "do water" before I do anything else- two glasses in the morning, a glass before a cup of tea, a glass before a meal, a glass before coffee. If I am hungry = water time. If I am tired = water. I don't need coffee, the way I used to need it. And rather than taking time every few months to detox with herbs and special yoga poses, I don't feel clogged up or congested in a way to need that, I just keep drinking water. I think I might be addicted. But I also think I am ok with that because it is easy, feels really good (and yes, my skin is more clear and have more energy) and I am so grateful I live in a place where I can drink out of the tap. 
The holiday season can be very difficult if you love it or hate it (as the music, aesthetic and mania can be pervasive). I am one of the former, I enjoy communing with every friend and family member possible, decorating, pumping Christmas music, finding the right gifts for those I exchange with, baking cookies and sending cards. As the world turns quieter and colder in the northern hemisphere, it could be a time to introvert and enjoy longer evenings, but the added items on my to do list seem to be distracting year after year. A few years ago, in an attempt to slow down I tried a Voluntary Simplicity Experiment-- an idea to gift experiences rather than things-- and for everything that I received for a year, I would have to get rid of something else. It felt really good and still does. I hope you give it a try or figure out what your own Voluntary Simplicity Experiment might be.
