My shoulders are giving up, very slowly by the millimetre, the crampiness, scrunching, and gripping that they've become accustomed to over the years. Sounds good, but I'm discovering that they weren't just scrunching for the hell of it. They were working hard to compensate for injuries, provide balance, and generally try to restore normalcy in an otherwise messed up body... sounds a bit like me and life at large.
Anyway. About 20 years ago, I had a pretty spectacular fall while I was skiing down a steep off-road trail in my long, slick track skis... not the gear for the job. My right arm got wrenched out of its socket and it wouldn't lift up of its own accord for ages. Eventually it "healed" and got back to "normal". Not. Now I realise that the shoulder adjusted to help the injured wing flap again, and in the process, got itself all out of sorts.
This journey into the body is amazing. This week the right shoulder finally gave up its grip on the injured arm. Consequently the arm couldn't lift, not without a lot of pain; right back to square one on the icy trail under Crown Peak. Wow.
So twenty days into the arm practice, I'm rehabilitating a 20 year old injury on the yoga mat. I do feel like a doll or a transformer, moving piece by piece, millimetre by millimetre, joint by joint, into a new body.
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