I've been asking this question
to classes throughout the week, "Can you be too flexible?" It’s been
interesting to see some people nodding “yes” and some “no”, when actually it’s
posed as a rhetorical question, a provocative way of engaging deeper thought.
Over the years, I’ve heard
people say that they’re “too inflexible” to do yoga, or they want to become
more flexible, so perhaps yoga is something to try. Some people comment on the
hypermobility in others saying they must do yoga, or if someone exhibits big
ranges of motion that they must be “good” at yoga. This makes me think that
flexibility is something to be attained and is a coveted prize. Ever since I
was a young kid, I’ve been flexible. I could do the splits without trying and
backbend easily. Friends and family members would comment on this special
prowess that I possessed as though it were a rare and prized quality. With this
inherent range of motion, I gravitated toward dance and gymnastics, other
realms that praised the flexible beings walking the earth.
If I think about the more
extreme examples of flexibility, rhythmic gymnastics, dance, artistic
gymnastics, and yoga all come to mind. They train beyond normal and functional
ranges of motion to achieve a particular aesthetic, one unreachable by many.
I gained from the gift of being
flexible until I didn’t…leading to an unstable lumbar spine, with increasing
pain as I have aged. Health practitioners I’ve been working with have said to
me, “You’re too flexible…we need to stiffen you up!” It was a blow to the ego
as I have been praised for my “ease” in larger ranges of motion for most of my
life. It’s also been a humbling re-calibration of what serves me and what will
continue to do so. My focus has changed to creating greater stability and less
mobility. Moreover, it’s been teaching
me to honor and respect my physical body as it changes over time. It’s a tough
lesson.
We all have something called a
tipping point. In relationship to our physical selves, it’s our tissues managing
a certain load or stress, undergoing something called viscal elasticity, which
is when a load is applied to tissues, it slowly elongates and deforms to the
applied stress. All of our tissues have a limit to this stress before injury
happens. For bones, it’s about 2% with more than that resulting in the bone
breaking. The stress can come in the form of a heavy load, time, or fatigue.
So, as an example, if we hold a plank pose for a relatively long period of time
we begin to quiver and shake as our body tries to recruit more muscle fibers
until eventually, we not only lose form and the integrity of the shape of the
pose, but we begin to lose the benefit of doing the pose. More does not equal
better.
This week’s thought has been
about not only managing our physical load, optimizing the balance between
stability and mobility, but looking at the other stressors in our life that may
be related to our mental health and our emotional state. These past seven
months of the global pandemic have been tough…an extra load added to what is
often a challenging life to begin with. People’s mental health has been
affected, our emotional steadiness challenged, and a calling to our deeper
spirit for support. Know that all of us have a point at which we break,
physically or otherwise. With awareness, we can become wiser to what we cannot
only tolerate but to what supports us in thriving rather than just getting by.
I’ve been pointing to this theme over the past several weeks with the
encouragement to do less, take rest (the refractory period), create boundaries,
get outside, and honor the many forms that our yoga practice can take.
We all know the metaphor of the
camel and the straw. Perhaps we can say “no” to adding more into our lives and
accept the nature of our inherently divine selves, perfect just as we are.
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