Many years ago,. after complaining about how sore I was after practicing yoga, someone told me that actually everyone in the world is sore – they just don’t know it. Yoga reveals pain.
That pain seems to come and go, and lately I have been in a sore place in my practice.. Everything hurts, if I push into anything it hurts more – I’m just a little delicate.
My friend Yuka recently transformed her body. David asked her what she was doing, and she mentioned that she was getting treatments from a shiatsu master from Japan. So, David asked for an appointment.
Enter Taka. I decided Taka is going to solve all of my problems, mainly my hunchback, but also my shoulder, my lower back, my neck, my hamstrings, and my general sense of self worth. After David had a great session with him, I booked Taka for weekly appointments.
Taka looks like he would belong at my nine-year-old nephew’s birthday party, but he is apparently 30. He has very sharp pointy elbows that he digs into my neck. He tells me every session that I look tired, or that it seems like I need more sleep. This is equal parts depressing (OMG I look tired) and satisfying (once I sleep everything will be better).
Every session, he beats the shit out of me. I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry or punch him in the face. Two sessions ago, I didn’t want run screaming from the room – it was still painful but manageable. I thought that maybe I was getting really tough. But then Taka told me that he was just trying to relax me.
Taka has been trying to get me to open my chest and take the strong arch out of my lower spine to straighten out my posture. He gave me an exercise to practice whenever I can, which involves pushing my chest forward and pulling my shoulders back repeatedly. Do you remember the little dance that went with the chant, “We must, we must, we must increase our bust.”? Well, it is exactly like that. So, I look really awesome doing that in the car, in the grocery line, watching tv. Taka says his treatments are only effective with that exercise to open my back. Fantastic.
He does this thing where he stretches out my back by pulling on my hips in one direction and pushing my rib cage in the other. You know the rack – that torture device where they pulled the prisoner by the arms and legs. I can now relate. Today as I was listening to the sounds of my ribs snapping, Taka looked up with a sunny expression.
Taka: I saw my first Toronto snow yesterday!
And if all my ribs weren’t broken, I might have run from the room screaming, cried, laughed, or punched him in the face. .
Today, after my session I ran to pick up some food for dinner. At I waited for my debit card to be approved, I put my hands on my back and stretched out my chest. The cashier looked at me.
Cashier: Are you sore?
Stan; Oh, well …(At this point my mind starts racing. How do I explain that I just had a massage and my body is killing me without sounding like an ass?)
Cashier: Are you a ballerina?
Cashier: Either that or you do yoga. I can tell by your posture.
Taka deserves a raise.
In other news:
I gave birth to the reincarnation of Kurt Cobain.