Breathe
all good things…
I’m reliving a beginners yoga class I took on March 4, 2020.
My yoga instructor says “this is the time you have chosen” as we choose an intention to focus on. I say “health” in my mind. There is gentle music and I can hear cars going by. Breathe in. Breathe out. The car sounds began to fade. Breathe in. Breathe out. My muscles begin to relax into my mat. I hear only my breathing. I open my eyes to see the candles and relief subtly taps me on my shoulder. I think: this is the time I have chosen that God has lent to me to experience beauty. The candles flickering against the night sky darkening the windows to the storefront. Earlier that day, there was a moment of “why isn’t this working–why does this keep coming back in unexpected ways? I’m scared.” Sometimes my limbs work, sometimes I can feel them and sometimes I can’t. Sometimes I choke. Sometimes the pain is so deep I can’t describe where it is. Breathing, let alone breathing and speaking is like going underwater, surfacing, going under again. I say “it’s ok. It’s ok. You’ll be ok. Don’t freak out.” There is no noise now, just gentle breath–I am in fact, breathing. I remind myself that chronic illness means it can be with you for life or go away and come back to say “hi, remember me?” We’ve tried the standard treatments. We’ve tried meds for other autoimmune disorders; chemo drugs. The diets. Sometimes things work and sometimes they don’t. I can just go away. Away away away for 30 minutes. My body knows what to do. In physical therapy, I’m not told “try to stand.” I’m told: “stand!” And then I am standing with assistance, but for a few minutes, I can stand. My body knows what to do. With assistance. With breath.
And I stand now. Quite a bit. On days like today, when the noise is too much and my students just won’t cooperate, I stop and think, you are sitting in your wheelchair, but you are standing in your own classroom teaching once again, and that’s something I never thought would be possible. On noisy days, I go back to that night in yoga with the flickering candles and remember that all I need to do is breathe, pause, look up, and remind everyone that it’s time to breathe before we can stand.
