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The Measurements Have Been All Wrong.

As I spit out the suds of the toothpaste and looked back up at the medicine cabinet mirror, I noticed that my body was a bit different than before.  Actually, I have been noticing it for awhile. My daughter grabbed my arm the other day and said "Mom, where did you get those muscles?" Seven years post elbow replacement (yes... I have a fake elbow) my tricep was finally sore the other day. During the surgery, the surgeon has a hard time "rehanging" my arm, and had to cut through the tricep. I worked hard at physical therapy and took no pain medication to speed up the process of recovery because we were adopting my daughter later that year. I never worked so hard at anything in my life, but it would not fire. My ulna has a metal rod screwed into it that you can actually feel under my skin. This is a constant reminder of a moment you'd like to redact and the months it took just to get it to be able to open a door.

As most of my best (and worst) decisions in life are made with a combo of gut feeling, a bit of impulse and a sprinkle of fear, I decided to take a leap this summer and enter into yoga teacher training. I didn't know why exactly. I think that doing yoga made me feel so positively different during very difficult times,  I just knew I wanted to invest in learning more.  

So I dove in and immersed myself in this way and with people around something I found positive. Naturally, maybe out of blind fear of looking like a jackass when learning to teach people at first, I went to more classes and practiced at home. But the process itself becomes a desire.  My body continues to evolve, but more importantly my mind is quieted and I can see progress where I missed it in the past as progress was tied to a scale or a check box on a to-do list.

The pain in the tricep that occurred when I stretched my arm at a stop light was tear worthy. That pain means that its firing. All my other muscles aren't picking up its slack. My "not going to work" tricep is working. Along with that, I can create a teetering balance on my left arm again, which in all honesty has been a pile of rubble since the accident and surgery, along with my mind set around it.

I don't hurt as much. 
When my arm does hurt, its more of working it, rather than a throbbing chronic pain.
I am more proud of my arm than angry at it, and more proud of myself than weighted down by the limitation. 

The other day, in yoga, I balanced a half bow pose on my left hand. Anything like that would have been impossible six months ago, as a measure of fear and weakness would wash over me with the idea. What once would have been a ridiculous idea for me as a 39 year old woman, sitting on the floor straight legged, rolling forward and grabbing my feet, is now something I do every morning to just feel right. I have learned so much about yoga, anatomy, and simple living.  I can actually teach the first part of a class with some confidence, and at the very least, I have everything I need to build a life long practice. 

Since I literally have been buying nothing by yoga clothes and MORE yoga clothes,  I finally had to break down a buy a pair of jeans yesterday because my jean collection is wonky on me now. Not wonky because they are tight, but wonky because they just don't fit right. I find myself tugging and pulling to keep up the droopy drawers. I had to buy a size down. I probably should have even bought a size smaller, but I never understand the stretch concept until its too late. 

So much goodness and you know what thought ran through my mind when I looked in the mirror? What runs through my mind non-stop if I am being honest? This arbitrary "yeah.. but only if I lose 20 pounds." WHAT. THE. F#&K BRAIN?  Are you serious?   

I mean.... would I trade all these benefits in for 20 lbs? Would you? Sometimes I think I would, which now seems so ridiculous and fleeting. Real change comes when I am not looking, but doing. Mindless attachment to an arbitrary outcome IS the root of all suffering.  How is it even possible that with all of the above, my ego chitters away saying yeah... but you're no good because the scale says you haven't lost 20 lbs? 

Tossing the scale and going to Yoga with kiddo this morning because we want to. I can't wait to see what the practice has in store for me today. I don't care what the scale has in store for me today. I already know that story and that story is tired and useless.  The measurements, up until this point, have been all wrong. 

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