It’s good to be back! After a hiatus for surgery and recovery, I’m here in the ol’ inbox chatting about yoga. I sure did miss you.
Today, I want to talk about some of the things I practiced while I was away in the hopes that maybe you’ll be able to apply some of this to your experience. I’ll focus on the importance of letting things be, asking for help, and being grateful.
The Backstory
Despite what they tell you on Instagram, not every yogi emerges from the womb in stellar health and with a capacity to will away the discomfort and various pathologies. In fact, I’d say most of us are human, and therefore we’re subject to all the slings and arrows of outrageous humanness. This was not my first surgical procedure.
The last time I went through surgery, I knew nothing of yoga. I was such a hot mess. My attitude was one of absolute resistance. I fought the fact that I needed medical help. I railed against the unknown and my ideas of what the future pain would be like. I was a hissing, spitting, ugly-crying trainwreck.
Coming out of anesthesia wasn’t much better. I get completely disoriented, pull medical equipment off me, and do what I can to escape… It’s not just a one-off thing either. This has happened twice. I may seem chilled out, but I’m one of those...
I knew this most recent surgery had to be different. I have yoga and mindfulness in my corner these days. Sure, I was still nervous, but I was determined to minimize my suffering and the suffering of those around me by applying these things we’re learning together.
The power of acceptance
The first thing I had to work on was the idea of acceptance. Meditation and mindfulness practices are incredibly helpful in this arena. A big part of yoga is developing this appreciation for things as they are. We’re working on clear-seeing after all.
There were so many times in the leadup to surgery where I caught myself fearing the pain of another operation and the potential diagnoses. Every time I noticed my mind wandering down that dark path, I stopped myself. “You’re robbing yourself of the present,” the equanimous part of my mind said.
I leaned heavily on a few teachings from my dear teacher, Thich Nhat Hanh. The most important was: “Present moment, wonderful moment.” This became the mantra that called me to the here and now. I even used this mantra when I was in the car on the way to surgery and when I was in the pre-op area. There was no need to waste more time suffering from anticipated pain. When there was pain, it was this mantra that reminded me that none of it was really permanent anyway. Some of our present moments feel great, and some don’t feel good at all. In the middle of all that, there’s a life happening.
It really made a difference. I hope you’ll find words and practices that can help you the way that mantra helped me.
Asking for help
We all have a person we think we ought to be, and then there’s who we actually are. In yoga, we learn to reconcile that aspirational self and the Self. Oftentimes, the person we think we ought to be is a totally powerful, always in control sort of individual.
It’s a lovely facade, but what about the foundation? If you think about the ideal version of yourself, what does that person look like? I imagine the word “vulnerable” wouldn’t be in the first handful of descriptors you might use. Do you ask for help when you need it, or do you know you need help and hope someone will read your mind and render aid?
For a long time, it was important to me to project a powerful image. I didn’t ask for things. Aspirational self can get likes and views, but the actual Self is over here doing most of the living. For surgery, I knew I needed to ask for help. I needed to use my words so that I’d be able to recover well.
Better yet, I was able to use my words to communicate with my care team about my concerns. It turns out that my being defiant and trying to escape the recovery room after the last two surgeries wasn’t just me being an a-hole. The anesthesiologist said that I likely experienced postoperative delirium. Because I used my words, she was able to adjust the protocol for me. When I woke up, I was not in pain, and I was very peaceful and cooperative with the nurses. (They still deserve a medal.)
Without mindfulness, there’s a good chance I would have repeated my old patterns. When we practice, we’re building skills that can help us navigate these sorts of challenging situations. We’re learning to see what we need and ask for it.
Seeing with gratitude
When I woke up from surgery, a nurse passed me my glasses and gave me an apple juice. Another nurse helped me get dressed, and she handed me a small pillow. Even in my partially-sedated state, I was able to see that someone had hand-stitched one section of the pillow. I felt gratitude for this unknown seamstress, who took time to make this little pillow for me to clutch to my stomach when I sneezed or laughed in the days to come. …And there was the nurse that didn’t even get mad when I dumped a bunch of apple juice all over myself because what are motor skills anyway? The fact that my doctor took my pain seriously and that I had the opportunity to get care wasn't lost on me either.
Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I was so thankful for the care, the listening ears, the stitching hands, the modern technology… I was thankful for the nights the medical team spent practicing their craft and studying so that they’d know just what to do. I was thankful for my person for pulling the car around and taking me home. I didn’t feel great, but I certainly felt grateful.
We practice gratitude all the time in yoga. (For some of the science behind gratitude, see this article.) Gratitude can have profound impacts on our experience, and in difficult times, training our eyes on acts of compassion and on our own opportunities can totally reframe the situation. Surgery is no walk in the park, but by taking the time to notice the acts of compassion being carried out all around me, I suffered less.
I’m so grateful that I cultivate these habits of acceptance, asking for help, and gratitude in my yoga practice when I am feeling well so that they are reflexive for me when I am not well. When you come up against a challenge, it may not be pleasant. There’s an opportunity in there, too, though. This is what we train for. Keep practicing, my friends. You never know how it might help you down the road.
