I happened across the blog An Encore Voyage by a clever lady named Lynn, who seems to be sharing some spiritual space with me. She said:
Yoga sneaks up on you, and quietly changes the person you are, from the inside out.
She’s right. Yoga enhances your strength, balance, flexibility (in every sense), self-acceptance and mindfulness. It also brings clarity and a sense of calm.
Throughout the endless series of nightmares last year presented, I only lost it once and that was only because they’d kept me in the hospital way too long and my surgeon was a sugar-coated bitch.
When I got my diagnosis, I knew in my heart that it is what it is, no more and no less. In the early stages, I felt my own courage, bravery even, but eventually the treatment process became a matter of moving forward blindly, of not dwelling on anything, of waking up and going to sleep and breathing, always breathing, taking the time to stop and rest and then rest some more. More than anything else, what got me through it all was a sense of distance, as if all of this was really happening but not really happening to me. Yoga gave me that sense of perspective, the ability to accept being slightly off-center all the time.
I want to put it all behind me, but I don’t want to forget. I want to learn what I can from the experience. One thing I learned is that it is good to be grateful when good things happen, and it is all right to be sad when bad things happen. The nice thing, though, is that we can also be grateful when bad things don’t happen. Assuming there is some sort of balance in the movement of energy through the universe, and I do believe there is, that works out to more gratitude than sadness and that works for me.
For now, I seem to have won the battle. I am on the slow path to recovery, the little engine that could, moving into a new stage in my life that promises fun, adventure and a great deal of happiness. I think I’ve earned it.