If I had slept through
and not been at the window
I’d have missed the owl
Archive for August, 2009
Night Half-full
Sunday, August 30th, 2009Parivrtta Svanasana, Turning Dog Pose
Wednesday, August 12th, 2009It is said that the asana limb of yoga began when ancient yogis emerged from their meditation caves creaky and stiff from long stints of sitting still. They discovered that some movement enabled them to recenter and return to their blissful states.
These newly flexible yogis titled a handful of poses after legendary gods. They derived others from their observations of the natural world, naming some after legendary dogs.
These faithful canines likely woke from their cave naps just as my dog today rises from her cushy bed, reaching first into upward-facing dog directly into downward-facing dog.
Up dog opens the front body, a real tail-wagger to anyone with PD who’s feeling that forward curl in their posture. Down dog, a favorite among practitioners today, stretches and strengthens the back and shoulders, lengthens the hamstrings and calves. It’s an all-around good dog, as is its half counterpart.
As I emerge from stints of sleep, creaky and stiff from lying in one position for too long, I’ve discovered that the yogis left out a pose. Maybe the caves were too dark at night to observe another in the line of canine-inspired asanas: turning dog.
Mystified at my inability to roll over – a real trick with PD, one might say – I decided to watch how the dog changed sleeping positions.
She gets up. Yes, the dog gets out of her bed, stands, reaches her neck and each leg slightly before she turns and folds back down.
It works. Sure, getting out of bed is a struggle. But less so than turning in bed. After a slight stretch of arms and legs, I turn, fold back down and return to my blissful state.
I’m In
Tuesday, August 4th, 2009Watching my inbox for a message from the Parkinson’s Disease Foundation (PDF) felt reminiscent of days, way back when, awaiting college acceptance letters. For both, I’d wondered if I’d be invited to learn from those who dedicate their lives to study, and take that knowledge into the work I do with others. Somehow, this time it seemed even more crucial a role.
Approval of my application arrived yesterday. I now have the honor of participating in the 2009 PDF Clinical Research Learning Institute.
I’m in. So, why did I stare at the message and cry?
For me, staying balanced – physically and emotionally - with PD can sometimes mean disregarding that I have it. It’s not a denial, not an escape from reality. Rather, it is simply part of the balancing act.
Timing when my meds are on, for example, has become second nature. I know when I can go out and weed the garden without getting stuck behind a shrub from freezing or falling; the extra time I gain from my meds after a bike ride are like clock work; the insomnia has made me an expert at crossword puzzles. All the workarounds are my way of being gentle with myself, practicing ahimsa.
But, satya, or truth, appeared with that email and put me face to face with a disease that I cannot always skirt. No, for the length of the Institute, I will be immersed in all that is Parkinson’s. That reality let loose a few tears. Of course, there wouldn’t be balance without some crying.
On the flip side, what brought a smile back was knowing that I’ll be playing a part in what will hopefully be the new reality: that there will be no need for working around the symptoms. There’ll be no symptoms. There’ll be no more Parkinson’s.