Living Well
5.20.2010 | 0 Comments
The experience of aging involves loss; the loss of health, abilities, looks. More poignantly it means the departing of dear ones and the awareness of constant change.
Since what breaks the heart can also make it larger , more opened and porous, experiencing these losses can allow for a deeper, more compassionate outlook on life , our life, the lives of others.
Ageing and illness are words that inspire alarm and have been taboo in our culture for decades, however, they both also point to impermanence, to constant change, renewal , and a larger context.
Impermanence, death and the awareness of these are at the core of every spiritual tradition. It is difficult to imagine that, if we lived a healthy, eternal life, we would be too bothered asking ourselves questions about its meaning, what may lie behind or beyond it ,not to mention to consider ethics. Eternal life on earth would probably be hedonistic and meaningless.
It is the fact that we are, as human beings, in the unique position of being individually conscious of our own impermanence that has driven us to seek meaning and wisdom, to philosophise.
The flip side of loss and ageing, can be an increase in appreciation, the valuing of every little thing, every moment, reframing of values, once perhaps driven by ambition, into a few essentials; love, generosity, awareness, simplicity. These become more important than status, career and image. This seems to be a well kept secret; the young and healthy, when looking at the older and more physically challenged, may only see lack and inferiority, when we ourselves age and encounter illness we recognise that it brings increased sensitivity, and ability to open to the present moment.
Physical challenge and even suffering are the hallmark of most ritual tribal initiations, but life initiates us naturally, with the dawning of maturity , and in some cases even in early in life, the struggles of the physical body come accompanied by the deepening of awareness and meaning.
If however the experience of illness is exclusively or excessively medicalised and not allowed a holding, reflective space, it can become a vacuous ordeal and we can miss out on its inherent spiritual riches .
Providing this holding space is a central aspect of the workshops Fidelma Farley and myself facilitate.
People living with illness often feel different and even isolated in their experience, especially as society around them presses on with its demands and its materialistic values. Listening to each other, recognising our experience as being “normal” and valuable, is deeply reassuring.
There is a tendency in illness to dissociate from the body, to feel that it has changed to the point of being a stranger, or that its faculties are too limited to make embodiment possible.
Reconnecting to the body, to sensing, and enjoying it is the core of my Yoga and movement work with illness (and in health too). This is done through a variety of tools; from sensory awareness practices drawn from NLP, to breathing work, Focussing,visualisation, gentle movement which borrows as much from T’ai Chi and Chi Kung as from Yoga and Dance. I especially work through the constant encouragement to listening to the body, to asking it how it feels, what it wants, what pace, what intensity and what level of effort. The participant is invited to co facilitate by being aware of his/her embodiment and by playing with the range and pace of movement, to re own physicality.
It is impossible to work in this way without emotional content arising from the practice. As the body eases, sensation gives way to feeling and emotion. Sadness, grief, fear and frustration can arise. All experience is welcomed and given space.
My work in this area so far has brought me in touch with conditions such as MS, ME, Fibromyalgia, Rheumatoid Arthritis as well as back pain, migraine and injuries. Working with people in wheelchairs in the past has proven incredibly rewarding as the sense of achievement in movement is so powerful! People feel allowed to rejoice and take pride in their bodies and it is a privilege to share in this.
The pacing of the session is essential when working with painful and debilitating conditions, five minutes of work and five of rest seem to work best. Touch is also something I have learnt to consider; while direct contact can be supportive to some, it can cause actual pain to those suffering from conditions such as fibromyalgia or ME. Yoga and mindful movement can go a long way in relieving pain and in altering the course of a condition. Fearful expectations often account for a large portion of the difficulty of living with illness, when these are reduced through mindfulness and relaxation, quality of life is enhanced.
I try to gather information from participants in advance of the workshop via email. This allows me to tailor the session to individual needs and to research on specific conditions when necessary. It is a huge learning experience for me and I still find that I have to be opened and flexible, as participants may decide to come in on the day and the general tone of the group may turn out to be different from what I expected. My job is to be receptive to the group and to keep communication opened, so that we can together make the session fruitful.
As a Yogini, this teaching practice reminds me that the immortalist aspirations of some Yoga schools are not my path, it is in the “wound” that energy and spirit are revealed , and the Guru is often walking if not rolling (on a wheel chair), on the other side of the street.
