I love to be around others. I guess you could say that I am a people person. Making others laugh, or simply smile, brings me joy.

It’s not that I need them in order to be happy, as my late husband once thought. It’s not that at all; my happiness comes from deep within. Being around others just gives me more reason to access it. Of course, I too have moments where melancholy or neediness takes hold.

I love to share my happiness with others. By giving it away, I end up with even more. Sometimes I feel so young, childish even. I want to turn cartwheels or hang from the bars. There is a feeling of being ALIVE that I get when I goof off, or play in this manner. And being alive is something I don’t take for granted….

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On the way home from work, I pass the runners doing their post-work thing by the creek trail. I watch the ponytails swing and the sweat drip. It looks delicious. But I try not to long for this. I can’t. Not with a broken toe.

It is Monday night, and YaYa is off doing some volunteering at a local charity. He won’t be home for hours. It would be the perfect opportunity to attend the hot vinyasa for it is my favorite yoga class. Ah, but I CAN’T.

I can’t do much these days. But there are some things that I CAN do. I can now do child’s pose, get into a shortened downward facing dog, stand on my head, and do many of the arm balances that I love. It’s something; it’s just not enough to be able to attend a class. My pace is slow and my practice abbreviated. 

Yet, I do my best to give thanks for what I can do and let go of the disappointment of all that I am missing.

The responses I get from people, when they find out I broke my toe doing yoga, are hysterical. “What? YOGA? I thought yoga was just stretching and meditation. How do you break a toe doing that?” Obviously, they haven’t been around these parts.

I’ll be the first to admit, I had no business going where I went last week. No business in the sense that I didn’t fully understand how to grow the pose I was exploring. I only knew I wanted to achieve it.

My mission towards grasshopper pose began after seeing the foundation of the pose in one of the photos I’d taken of the Vinyasa class. It seemed so clear to me on how to get there, I gave it go. From chair pose, I lifted my right leg and placed it across the top of my left leg (figure four), put my hands together in anjali mudra (prayer) and made the connection with the sole of my foot and my right upper arm. I was there. The foundation was set. 

The next night I decided I would take it to the next step. I repeated the initial sequence, then placed my hands on the floor and leaned in. From here, the only thing left was to lift off with my other leg. This is where it all went wrong for I didn’t know where I was going; I was just going.

Instead of lifting from the inner thigh, I lifted my leg backwards thereby tipping my body in such a way that my foot had no where else to go but slide off of my arm. I came down ON the toes — jamming them into the ground. It was not pretty. I rolled around on the floor, alternating between holding my breath and trying to take deep cleansing breaths while trying to refrain from letting the expletives fly. Then, when I was able, I crawled to bed.   

In my 2 ½ years of yoga practice, I’ve pushed the edge often. Oddly enough, I didn’t feel as scared to grow this pose as I have trying other poses of less difficulty. Even now, after having my practice sidelined once again, I look forward to trying it again. The difference is that I am now armed with the wisdom of my errant move. I have a new appreciation for checking my roadmap before I explore new territory. Because apparently I does make a difference.

Which brings me to the yogic philosophy of this experience?   

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