Walls Fall Down: I Love Being Wrong

The Gift of Day 15: I was wrong about my body.

My mind is a powerful tool. I've learned a great many things and my student energy is as strong as ever. I love to learn, to research and to reason, to challenge what I believe to be true. 

My spirit is strong. I came late to the spirituality game but I'm here now, playing hard, exploring my relationship with The Force and searching for the Divine in me. The mystery of it all holds me and inspires me. Every day, it seems, something new bubbles up into my consciousness and I am in awe of the entire experience of exploring myself and others as the spiritual beings. 

My body, until recently, not so much of a champion. I dreamed last night about the literally thousands of physical challenges that I have failed to complete - the workouts that I stopped because I simply COULD NOT DO IT haunt me the most. The extra weight. The physical weakness. In terms of exercise, I have slammed into many a wall and... and walked away.  

I always stopped. Always. Every single fucking time I reached a point of breathlessness, I stopped. Every time my muscles would tremble, I stopped. Every time it burned, I stopped. For years, when I hit that wall, I believed I'd done all I had it in me to do. I was fat. I was lazy. I was weak. I couldn't keep going. It didn't feel like giving up. I (seriously and sincerely) thought that it was impossible to continue. 

I became afraid of the wall, afraid of that feeling of being trapped over and over again by the reality of my inability to do what was necessary to change my life, to change my body. As I hit the wall, defeated and forced to retreat, my self-loathing and hopelessness where an unbearable weight. Each time, I begged myself to continue but my mind said, no... it's not possible. 

I believed it. 

I hated the defeat, and eventually, I hated myself for being defeatable. In a move that was both primally protective and completely self-sacrificing, I began to avoid paths there I might happen upon the walls. That's how I got here, plus 60 pounds, and finally sick of it enough of myself to do whatever it took to make a change. 

It turns out... I was wrong about my body. 

Kundalini yoga, in just a couple of months, has completely transformed my relationship with my body. I started taking class once a week in February and two weeks ago, I started a daily practice at home. I'm doing a 40-Day Sadhana (if you miss a day, begin counting again... period) of the Nabhi Kriya which, if you a moment to glance at it,  is a core workout that falls somewhere in between "Unlikely" and "No Way In Hell" on the scale of Christy Can Do This Work Outs.

Note that the times listed are advanced, which my teacher made me promise I would honor before she gave it to me. It seems she's met my quick to self-destruct type before. I started with 1/3 times, except posture #2 which I couldn't do at all on Day 1. By Day 4, I did it for two minutes. On Day 15, I did this: 

#1 - 8 minutes

#2 - full time

#3 - full time

#4 - 12 minutes

#5 - full time

#6 - full time

I repeat: Day 15. I can't explain this amount of change in my strength in 15 days. Frankly, I don't believe it's possible to change this much muscle so quickly. 

What did change... is my relationship with walls. 

Yesterday, even as I was doing this kriya, it felt impossible to my mind. It said that I couldn't do it. I actually heard that I wasn't strong enough inside my head. My mind was trying to convince my body to stop, it was too hard.

I stopped listening to my mind. 

I stepped out of myself and watched, like a curious witness, as my body moved with each breath in and out of the postures. One after the next, her... my body did what was asked of it. In class on Sunday, my teacher said that breath is the voice of our soul and that is the voice of a part of me that knows I am far more powerful than I ever understood until now.

I love being wrong about how powerful I am.