Make Space Yoga Logo

Paint Brushes, Chairs and Yoga

21st June 2016

What do those three things have in common you may ask. Well, I shall tell you. Two days ago, on a Sunday morning, I was standing on a chair, reaching up and slightly across to just get to that area, that in reality I couldn’t reach, with my paint brush. I stepped into thin air and the next thing I knew I was on the floor, landing like a sack of potatoes, twisted, shocked and after a nano second, sobbing loudly.

Although the French windows were wide open, my husband was mowing the lawn and was blissfully unaware. After making sure I could move everything without too much pain, in my head I thanked God for yoga. I thanked and thanked and thanked, still lying in same twisted position, covered in paint. Ultimately I made it out into the garden to now shock my husband as I crumpled and stuttered and shook and sobbed a lot more on him. The thing is I don’t cry, and certainly not sob.

After a few hours I could speak without sounding like a cccccrrrrraaaacked rrrrrreeccccord and apart from some serious bruising and shock, so far, am on road to recovery. BUT, in true yogic fashion I am starting to think, ‘what can I learn from this little accident’?

Apart from my very first thought of ‘ thank God for yoga’, which I still think. This had all the right ingredients for a nasty incident and the fact that I’m so supple saved me. It reminded me of the obvious, that life can change in a blink of an eye – I am creaking and sore and still thinking a bit slowly – but alive and able to go on. Not bad for an old bird who dives off of chairs.

My second and perhaps more profound insight is about my character. I’ve always been someone who never really lets go in front of anyone. I am the pourer of oil, the calm character who doesn’t kick up no matter what, but packs things down deep inside. Over the years of homeopathy and other treatments I have addressed some stuff, but still… I knew. Someone recently said to me you have such a giving heart, you give everything away – but you don’t seem able to take for yourself. Not an uncommon feature. So this complete breaking down was a new thing for me. Induced by shock, yes, but a few years ago I think I would have somehow taken my self off, cleaned my self up, cried on my own and then gone and told someone who would have tried to look after me but I would have shrugged it off to a degree and not showed the complete vulnerability that I did. Allowing myself to be wrapped in blankets, given hot tea and biscuits and arnica, stuttering and sobbing.

And so, I have thought ‘argh, I am making progress on my journey of giving and receiving.’ I put that down to yoga. Opening me up in all sorts of ways. Apart from the fact that the room I was painting was my little yoga room!