nathalie shushan

I went to four yoga classes the week leading up to my accident. Before that, I had been practicing consistently for over 9 years. The studio was where I could simultaneously ignite my passion and find my calm.  Without hesitation, I would say that my physical practice was one of the biggest casualties of the accident. While I was able to bring myself (begrudgingly) back to the gym a few months ago, the idea of getting into downward dog felt too daunting when I knew that I could hardly raise my tricep to my ear while standing – let alone with a quarter of the weight of my body resting on the arm.  

For the first few months, it was truly a lack of capability that held me back from my eagerly anticipated return. My muscles had completely atrophied and, for a long time, I could barely lift my empty-handed arm as high as my desk.  After spending months in therapy, I was deemed functional and could theoretically accomplish anything with my right arm that a normal person can – and yet, I found myself subconsciously shielding my shoulder from exerting any actual effort throughout the day or in my workouts.  As time progressed, all of the hard work that I had put in early on in recovery slowly diminished because I was too afraid to really build up the strength (physically, mentally) to get back to where I once was and beyond. I always believed myself to be someone who makes decisions out of desire, and never out of fear – and, suddenly, when I thought about it, that was exactly what I was doing by avoiding the yoga studio.

Finally, this weekend, I bit the metaphorical bullet and marched bravely into an 8am yoga class… and my bravery lasted a total of 20 seconds, when the instructor gently asked the class to make him aware of any injuries before proceeding and I mumbled vaguely about a shoulder injury while choking back the gym-tears to which I’ve recently become so accustomed.  He nodded in acknowledgement but quickly moved on, which made me feel validated but reminded me not to dwell. We moved from plank to chatturanga, which I had no choice but to take from my knees, and finally settled into the dreaded downward dog position. I probably looked more like I was in tabletop than downward dog but I was invigorated by the pose. I felt, at once, comfortable and challenged. With each posture, despite the imperfection, I felt my fear dissipating and my heart opening.  

Interestingly, while my strength poses will definitely require some effort before they’re back to where they once were, I excelled at the balance series, even finding myself able to come into and maintain a full eagle pose (arms intertwined and all). After class, upon reflection, I wondered if the time away from the studio had actually helped ground and center me in a way that I hadn’t been before. I recently read that resilience is a set of skills that make it possible for people to thrive during hard times, and I have always believed strongly in my own resilience. Sometimes I think that maybe this was just a test of it, to see how I would come out on the other end – and now that I’ve finally been able to continue on my yogic journey, I can confidently say that I will come out stronger than I’ve ever been before. Even if it will take more time than I wanted to allow myself. I just have to remind myself what I’ve always known to be true – that everything happens in its time and we are exactly where we’re meant to be.