Tag Archives: Humility

Yoga & Hip Replacement Surgery

Hip surgery is a daunting prospect for anyone. The first suggestion of the surgical option usually comes well in advance of the need for the actual operation. But it’s a red flag that starts to shape one’s thinking towards the inevitable, especially when levels of pain and physical limitations are increasing.

If you are someone interested in more natural ways, of dealing with health issues, then surgical intervention can seem scary in the extreme. Now that I am on the other side of double hip surgery, I can say that because of a wonderful surgeon and brilliant technology, I have my life back.

For yoga practitioners who are hip sufferers, there are some sacrifices to be made before your life will become all sunshine and roses again.In the last period before your surgery, you may be in quite a lot of discomfort, have developed a limp, and needed to change your lifestyle accordingly. Poses that you performed with ease, may not be accessible and if your practice was strong, you may have to adopt gentler and more reflective yoga practices. This takes a good deal of humility and a dedication to loving self-care.

If you are an independent person, you will need to become more reliant on others, both before and for a good while after the surgery. That’s just a given. This was so hard for me, and one of the most transformative “gifts” from the experience.

When researching the type of surgery I would have and the kind of prostheses I would receive, I realised I had no idea what was best. The amount of information on the Internet can feel overwhelming. I trusted the surgeon I chose (after seeing three different ones) and decided I would take my surgeon’s advice. Really, they are the ones with all the experience.

I had posterior incisions with ceramic and titanium devices. I was told that they would give me strength and durability. I am limited in some of the range of movement I used to have, but for a hyper-mobile body type, this probably makes my hips stronger and more stable. Most yoga students need to be working on strength and stability instead of ultra-flexability, so my hip surgery experience has helped me help them more.

I got back to teaching yoga four months post-surgery, taking it slowly to recover and rehabilitate. I feel I am still going from strength to strength.

The expense of the operation and rehab is considerable and it is necessary to take considerable time off physical work for full recovery, but all of it is an investment in your future. Not something that can be stinted on in any way.

Here’s an image a year after my replacement surgery, pain-free, having re-gained much movement and suppleness.

 All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.
Anatole France

Humble

My computer dictionary defines humility as: modesty, humbleness, meekness, diffidence, unassertiveness; lack of pride, lack of vanity; servility, submissiveness.

Well, maybe humility is not the right word (and I’m open to suggestions), because all those words above seem rather grovelling.

What I want to say is the feeling of humility has come knocking in recent months because certain circumstances have brought me low. Imagine Prince Charming (husband) fitting me with compression stockings every day and several times a day rather than a glass slipper. Picture me, who when I was first married could leap puddles, in the early days after hip surgery, learning to walk again with a walking frame and then crutches.

The hospital stuff is past now but I am still often being humbled by things that I used to do with the thoughtless snap of my fingers. Getting out of bed, getting dressed, I have to think about those things.

I know my hips allow me to bend more than 90 degrees now, but definitely not 180, and what is that no-man’s land in between? Vast and unexplored.

Probably the most humbling moment I experience now is getting down and getting up from the floor. There is no easy groove to slot into, no smooth flow.

Still, I can consider my condition and my situation a blessing because I am improving each day, and so far I have not backslid. I know people who will experience some level of pain for the rest of their lives or have a disability which no intervention will improve, yet they accept their lot. They are the real practitioners of humility.

Knowing me I will probably be back to my cocky self in no time.

The Crack in Everything

One of Leonard Cohen’s most loved songs, “Anthem”, has the refrain:

Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.

I’m of the opinion that the song’s sentiment is so popular because we humans would like not to have try to be so perfect. A good idea. It looks good on paper. Sounds good when sexy old Leonard sings it. Hard to do in reality, though.

I admit I still vacillate.

Yoga practitioners can be trenchantly obsessive in their press towards the perfect execution of poses, as well as wanting to perform the most advanced ones perfectly. Yoga teachers must stay ahead of the class or risk losing the following of experienced students.

Years ago my repertoire of poses began very gradually to shrink due to the slow erosion of the cartilage in both my hips. The osteoarthritic deterioration has taken 18 years and now I am ripe for bi-lateral hip replacement, which I will undergo on February 1st.

There was a point when I considered the arthritis diagnosis a death knoll for my teaching career. Depressing to say the least. I’m not a quitter though.

It turned out that arthritis was a teacher for me, just the thing for a show-offy perfectionist. I found it hugely humbling to own up to my lack of perfection, and I still struggle with that.

Maybe Mr. Cohen was really describing humility as the light that gets in. Smart guy, good yogi.

Summer Rose