I Won’t Be Doing a Wheel Pose Within the Next Month, but Soon…
I’m in pain.
I took a hard hit on my glutes (buttocks) a couple days, something that can only be credited to sheer stupidity on my part. Yes, my tailbone is sore, and my QL muscle on the left hurts, but I give thanks for
- Being a yoga instructor who knows a bit about anatomy, prompting me to begin gentle stretches and postures after the mishap
- The fact that I didn’t fall on my face or my head
- Already having an ice pack and a heating pad on hand, and the back and forth of those two items has helped greatly, as has topical Tiger Balm, which I purchased yesterday
- A very intuitive chiropractor who also owns a gym and who knows the body well. She gave me a much needed adjustment yesterday
- The ability to walk, maybe not my usual power walking, but I will get there
- Leading an “Amy injury” Holy Yoga class this morning that helped to stretch out that left side of my body
- The lovely ladies who joined me in my practice this morning, and we even got to celebrate the birth of a new granddaughter for a first time grandmother
Count your blessings before you focus on your pain.
I’ve often mentioned Dr. Bessel van der Kolk’s bestselling book, The Body Keeps the Score.
That book is at the forefront of my mind right now, because the anger and pain in me from a recent parting is definitely affecting my physical pain. In fact, to show how strong the mind is, I said to myself earlier today, “I refuse to allow ___’s decision to go his own way to amplify my physical pain,” and like magic, my muscle pain greatly diminished.
Yes, the body does, indeed, keep the score, including the pain of being delegated to the position of a “beloved friend” after 24 years of love, adventure, quirks in each other that only we know, family gatherings, a far too long engagement, and each of our own renditions of midlife crises.
I have definitely reached that anger stage of grief, and the way this all happened is really the source of my pain, a deeply emotional pain that somehow makes my physical pain worse.
I went from “Beautiful,” “Gorgeous,” and a few other pet names to “Sweetie” overnight. I initially denied that term–Sweetie— and told someone to start calling me by my name, Amy. I’ll keep the “Sweetie,” because we will reconnect as friends at some point. Just know that moniker is reserved only for his daughter and me.
I’m angry that we barely saw each other for two years, due to a work project for him. I’m angry that I was never invited–it wasn’t even suggested, to my recollection (though I could be wrong)– that I meet him during some of his away times. I’m angry that the three hours between us (it wasn’t always that way, but it also wasn’t my decision) have prohibited my being a part of his family and especially his adorable little grandson. I’m angry that last summer, in that brutally hot July, I had to miss his daughter and son-in-law’s anniversary celebration because I had spent three weeks traveling in the Carolinas to visit my favorite cousin as she was transitioning to eternal life, then to spend a really fun week with my older son and my granddaughters, then back home for a few days, then back to NC to join my family in celebrating my dear cousin’s life. Three hours apart with no forward movement plan can greatly prohibit travel plans sometimes.
And I am angry because I asked for some time to reflect on us back in November, only to have it backfire on me and knock me off my feet. During that time of mulling, I decided I wanted to relocate to the central part of the state for many reasons: It’s beautiful. It’s not the busyness and constant travel headaches of the Hampton Roads area. It’s closer to my people in NC and even a bit closer to my granddaughters in the ATL metro area. It’s an area where I could really grow my yoga and retreat offerings.
And mainly, it would have put us close together where we could actually DO life.
Because–for the overwhelmingly most part–we were always great when we were actually together.
I’m angry because his counselor/therapist–aka, the space between his ears–helped him decide that he wants to be alone. I just have no words…
I’m angry at myself for venturing into another relationship years ago after I told him I was attracted to someone else. I was actually attracted to that person’s sense of home, something that was lacking in our own relationship. I’m angry that I went down a rabbit hole last spring regarding a certain person who is covered in tattoos and piercings (no judgment regarding any of my friends who have them because you all are classy and wear them well) and whose life I wouldn’t want for a lot of reasons. I don’t know who happens upon my site and reads my writings, but if said heavily tatted, middle-aged woman happens upon this post, I apologize for contacting you. I know there was nothing there. It was my own insecurity in this prolonged absence from the person I loved that I allowed to take me down a deep dive into your life.
So, yes, I have pain in my own anger at myself.
I’ll get past this pain, both the physical pain from my fall, from my own failings, and from having now joined the little group of his best friends.
Breathe… just breathe.
Count the blessings.
The muscles will heal. Winter will end at some point.
And a new friendship will burst forth from the pain of this really difficult winter.
Amy Walton, at this writing, is recovering from a major shift in one of the most important relationships in her life. Other hurting hearts can connect with her at amywaltoncoaching@gmail.com.