Examining My Relationship With Pain
Examining my personal relationship with pain for growth through my experience as a teacher and as a student.
Pushing Towards Pain for Growth
Over the past few months, a specific theme has continued to show up in classes that I teach and classes in which I am a student. It’s not something new, but it has gotten stronger, and louder. So much so that I can’t ignore it. This recurring theme is pain.
Pain is an interesting physical, mental, and emotional sensation. It tells our body when we are hurt, when we may have gone too far, or when we are danger. Pain is uncomfortable, yet I notice it being seeked out in yoga classes in the form of challenge and progression. Pushing past ones limits (whether perceived or unperceived) towards a desired payoff or feeling has lead me to the following question: Why does one choose to push themselves towards pain?
Why does one choose to push themselves towards pain?
As I have contemplated this question, I am reminded that there are healthy and unhealthy sources of pain, as well as different levels or types of pain to consider. Pain when approached in a healthy way can be a great motivator for growth. From an anatomical perspective, the pain in conditioning or restructuring our bodies, and in releasing tension from muscles, fascia, joints, bones, and connective tissue. Much like a seed, under the right conditions, it will experience a level of discomfort as it expands to make space for its roots and in the effort needed to break through the soil to continue growing. It’s not called growing pains for nothing. Pain is inevitable during this experience here on earth.
Beyond requests for spicier classes, I’ve also been leading more stretch-based yoga classes recently where we use a rubber balls for self-massage. During this time you come face-to-face with witnessing your own pain and the discomfort in people’s faces and in the sounds make around you. Experiencing one’s relationship with their body through feedback in the form of sensation can be quite an intimate, cathartic, and somatic experience in helping people feel more present in and connected to their body.
It’s up to each of us to listen to our body, to decide that what is best for us, and when we may or may not need to seek help through guidance of medical intervention. Balance and moderation is key. For those pushing towards pain, there needs to be a plan and action towards rest. If not, what and who are you really doing this for?
Avoiding Pain for Growth
While some seek pain, others may do everything in their power to avoid it through procrastination, excuses, fleeing, freezing, you name it. From what I was witnessing in my classes as a teacher I was also seeing the other side of the coin examining my own relationship with pain and ways that I have been trying to avoid it as a student.
As a child, one of things that really lit me up was gymnastics. There wasn’t a summer that my hands were not blistered from climbing on jungle gyms, trees, or any other opportunities to be upside down or above ground. Take me out to a grass field for cartwheels and round offs and I was set. While my time formally practicing gymnastics was short, one pose that I always wanted to be able to master was a handstand.
Over the years, I’ve returned to the practice through aerial silks and other circus arts but it hasn’t been until my studies as a yoga teacher that I returned to handstand (Adho Mukha Vrksasana). After trying to learn on my own through videos and books with minor results, I finally had the opportunity to work with a fellow yoga teacher and dear friend Taranee Ponjani who facilities Handstand workshops in Toronto.
The first class was an awakening. I had not anticipated that a majority of the 90-minute class would be a series of challenging conditioning drills to strengthen and mobilize all the areas of our body to work up to a handstand. In classes that followed, my personal relationship with pain and fear became more apparent:
When revisiting inverted drills, I noticed being scared to attempt an inversion if I had fallen out of the shape the week before. Could feel my body hesitate, freeze up, or not fully committing in fear that I’d fall again.
Envisioning or being in a handstand was a source of excitement and also sparked fear of falling and the new sensation of holding weight to be upside
I noticed myself trying to rush through the drills to get them over with. A way to reduce the duration of the discomfort in pushing past my body’s comfort zone.
And probably the most interesting observation was that even in a room with a nurturing teacher and friendly community of attendees, I would go quiet as I moved through each drill. Reverting to old habits where I’d choose to suffer in silence like I’ve done in many situations in the past.
With these observations, I decided to change my approach as I did not want to give up. I made an effort to engage in the conversations that were happening around me (also to distract myself) and began to allow the sighs and expressions of discomfort out as a form of release. Each drill became an opportunity to see my progress each week, and to honour when I felt courageous enough to remove different safety nets towards holding the pose on my own.
See my progress with handstand
While the journey has been longer than anticipated, it has be a study in patience, perseverance, incremental improvements, and self-discovery. Each class I add a new piece to the puzzle to handstand in my body. Like that tiny seed, I’m growing my foundational roots which might not be as noticeable but soon enough I’ll be able to stand on my own and reach for the sky.
This past week, my experience and mindset shifts were echoed back to me on a call with a mentor of mine, Dihessa. Recalling her own observations she said, “The more afraid I am of something, the more I know the growth behind it is exponential”. Having the courage to feel the fear and do it anyway because she knew no matter what, she would guide herself through the fear.
As I watch others who are more advanced, I realize that this is just the beginning. In time I’ll be able to hold a handstand longer, to enter it in different ways, to walk on my hands, work up to Scorpion pose, and we’ll see where this inverted journey takes me.
Life is hard.
Pain is inevitable.
Growth is optional.- LaRae Quy
To attend Handstand Workshops facilitated by Taranee Ponjani
Visit her on Instragam at @taraneeponjani or contact via email
