Quality Preferable to Quantity
The
old saying a young man with a stiff spine feels old, while an old man with a
flexible spine feels young has captured my imagination of late. As my body
has aged, I’ve found that there’s a lot of truth to this adage.
Over
the years my practice has shifted and evolved. For many years, I was enthralled
by the outer limits of flexibility, as I believed that flexibility and freedom
were related. I spent hours opening my shoulders, spine and hips, and came to
enjoy a great deal of flexibility. While my joints could move every which way,
my mind seemed to become more rigid as I doggedly pursued flexibility. In my
experience, being Gumby-flexible didn’t translate to a more flexible or
resilient mind.
I
ultimately let the uber-flexibility experiment fall away, and focused more on
joint stabilization. This focus on stability helped heal my chronic back pain
but I found my spine becoming more rigid in the process. And as my spine felt
stiffer, I started to feel older and creakier.
Of
late, I’ve been spending more of my yoga time exploring a balanced mobility in
each and every segment of my spine. While harmonizing flexibility may seem like
a foregone conclusion in the practice of yoga, balanced mobility can be
surprisingly difficult to contact.
Most
of us tend to move our spine from the points of least resistance, and in
general, we tend to avoid moving from the places that are stickier or stiffer.
In spinal flexion (a front bend), I find that my thoracic spine is abundantly
willing and able. And in extension (a backbend), my lumbar spine is an
enthusiastic co-conspirator. But if I ask my thoracic spine to extend, or my
lumbar spine to flex, all bets are off. Only by paying close attention can I
access the stiff places, since the points of least resistance are where I’m
more likely to overstretch.
This
afternoon I spent some time exploring the old standby, Cat/Cow pose. By paying
attention to flexing more from the lumbar in Cat pose, and extending more from
the thoracic in Cow pose, my spine felt nicely steady, supple and invigorated.
A very simple practice, yet the results seemed outsized to the effort expended.
Have you found simple practices that provide outsized benefits?
Comments
I read an idea offered by Thich Nhat Hahn which continues to benefit me on a regular basis. Perhaps others may find this useful too: When stopped at a red light, embrace it as an opportunity to truly stop for these few precious moments to breathe and be grateful.. To reflect within.... I feel so "fortunate" that this light is only a mile or so away from my house; it's almost inescapable. Like a mirror, it reveals my state of awareness with complete dispassion - Oh, look... rage. Oh look...thinking about the future. Oh, look...joy. Regardless of my state, I have trained myself to follow this status check with a return to breath, to contentment, to gratitude.
Now, if I can only get myself to do this at the light six blocks further down the road! - Julia S.