this is an excerpt from lindsay’s upcoming book,
“the right side of sunrise:
a diary of semi-spiritual sobriety.”
written and lived by dr. lindsay luker
day 38
i practice yoga. a lot. it started when i was a wee one and was constantly blown away by being alive. my mind was hyperaware of its own inquisitive nature. unbeknownst to my young mind, there is a yogic term for this, vismaya, or spiritual awe. the wonders never ceased bouncing around in my young thoughts. “how does this life even exist? we do not even have to plug ourselves in. ever. we just keep going. we react to our environments, sometimes with thought and sometimes without. our bodies are somehow coordinated with our minds. this is quite obvious on some levels but extremely not on other levels. movement of our limbs can be planned and executed with the power of our thoughts. meanwhile, movement of our hearts, lungs, and belly carry on with absolutely no thought needed. it is all so wildly happening, and no one around me seems to be struck with awe! maybe they already know how it all works, and i am way behind. i’ll just be quiet about it all.”
i often wondered how the instinct to know right from wrong, to know universal rules all humans should follow, is somehow inherent in us. no matter the spoken language, we all know the unspoken morals and ethics that ultimately encourage us to simply be kind to each other. again, i did not know there is a yogic term for this, ahimsa, or universal compassion. “somehow i know to tell that person they dropped something or to even pick it up for them.” simultaneously, “i also know the dropped something is not now mine. i should pick it up and give it to them.” no one in my surroundings seemed to discuss this amazing bond amongst all humans. so, i stayed quiet about it.
to feel emotions in my body was the craziest idea for my youthful thoughts! “nervous feels one way in my belly while fear feels another way in my jaw. joyful feels one way in my face while sadness feels another way in my chest. how do the invisible wavelengths of emotion ultimately translate to sensations in my visible body”?
and to understand the effects of various foods on my entire being flabbergasted my unseasoned thoughts. “garlic and onions make me irritable. fruit fuels me. chocolate makes me giggle. how and why do these effects happen”? in yogic terms this is svadhyaya, or body awareness and self-study.
the curious heart of yoga quietly resided in me. not being sure how far ahead or behind of others i was in this flow of thought, i kept it all in to avoid confusion or embarrassment. besides, i did not have the vocabulary to articulate it anyway. but it was certainly there. always.
it was not until college when i had to pick a recreational class when words started to match themselves to this curious heart’s thoughts. i suppose we had to pick a recreational course to round out our schedules and make it look like we could do it all? or to get exercise? i’m not sure. in any case, “ugh” was my reaction to that requirement. not being the most enthusiastic team player, dreading most cardio activity (it feels like a panic attack to me), and abhorring any sports involving balls, i chose yoga. the description looked fittingly peaceful to me and seemed to include some words that made sense with my thought patterns. it also seemed to have the least amount of physical effort required (ha! little did i know about the branch of yoga, asanas, that requires one to build strength, balance, and flexibility). i took and passed the class. (which i thought to be ironic because if one can pay attention and breathe, how can one fail yoga?).
a few years rolled by with all of the branches of yoga gaining momentum in my being and starting to express themselves in my life. college courses, professors, and new friends presented as outlets for this expression. conversations were developing in my life that revolved around my way of thinking. however, i still did not quite have enough words for it all, but i also had not yet formally practiced in a studio setting with a teacher who was well-versed in this stuff.
shortly after optometry school, when i was in the worst physical shape of my life, i knew i needed to find something “recreational” again, but of course not anything that required running, being on a team, or dealing with balls. yoga it was. a gorgeous studio lived within walking distance from my piece-of-pie-in-the-sky-condo in the gold coast neighborhood of chicago. the universe gifted me with an impactful teacher, anna. anna incorporated all eight limbs into each class (versus most “teachers” that only focus on the one limb of asanas, poses). these classes brought to light and put into words the sensations that lived in me since childhood. it was all making sense. the study of yoga quickly became very important to me. i practiced my lessons on and off the mat, read the books, dove into the depths of teacher training in colorado, and eventually made my way to india, the motherland of namaste, for further exploration. i returned home and passionately taught various classes, workshops, events, and teacher trainings all over the chicagoland area for over a decade.
each class was a unique experience of giving and receiving invaluable lessons.
each class nurtured my soul with warmth and hope.
… and each class came with a meditation that had me floating farther and further from myself.
over time, i floated so far away from myself that eventually, i could not find my way back.
in this first, very fragile, month of sobriety, i realize i need to abruptly cease teaching. i need to put a hard halt to the powerful pull away from myself. i need more learning than teaching and more practice than preaching. i need to be the student in a class by myself. the only student. solo practice. solitude.
the only other guest i welcome into this solitary practice is spirit, the teacher. i welcome her most of the time, anyway. sometimes she is miss know-it-all. that can be annoying, and i want to kick her out.
but i don’t.
today is the first savasana, resting pose at the end of the physical practice, in years in which i stay put in my body. it is often taught in yoga and guided meditation to head for transcendence, to rise above the mind, to be the observer of life. i went there often. i go there often. it is easy for me. in fact, it is more difficult for me to remain in the body, tethered to life. it is as if i am always holding on to life by an unraveling string. traveling to the motionless space of meditation was and is always within my reach. i started to wonder, doesn’t that sound like the goal is death? to be out of body, observing, no emotion, no attention to senses, complete stillness. and what is complete stillness?… does the heart still beat, the lungs still breathe, the gut still digest? at what point does the stillness equate to lifeless? i was too good at going there, and that was scaring me.
i was so good in fact, it became a permanent place of residence. when that train came to its screeching halt and my physical being could not move one limb to climb aboard and take my usual hour commute to work, the dissociation had reached its outer limits. i was rushed to the ER in fear of a stroke and then rushed out with no diagnosis.
stuck in the space between my cells 24 hours a day for several months on end, i could not find my way back to my physical being. it was terrifying, to say the least. i could hear all noises and they were all at the same volume. however, i could not listen. when people talked, their mouths and words were not synchronized, like they were subtitles annoyingly delayed in a movie. when the words eventually reached me, they came in as noise, and it was such strenuous work to mentally string them together as sentences. clothing on my skin, the water in the shower, the comb in my hair, all physical sensations took so much time for me to feel them. it was as if i had to tell myself to notice the sensations on my body. i could observe everything, as if i was above my body. however, i could not see anything because i could not grasp the understanding of vision, of objects sending wavelengths through all the structures in my eyes and neurons in my brain to paint an image somewhere in there that i then see somewhere out there. to survive my day to day, i relied on the parts of me that were on autopilot. it is shocking that i could make and eat breakfast, let alone perform my career while living in this space.
with research and support and a quickly receding, but steadfast, will to hold on, i discovered this was no longer meditation, but an ongoing, life-numbing panic attack. this was my body’s and mind’s way of dealing with (actually trying to not deal with) my fear of life. it was my way of distancing myself in hopes of not coming back. it was my way of departing without facing a goodbye.
so, i drank. and i drank more. i drank to numb the numbing. i drank to escape the escape. i drugged myself to avoid wondering if i had been drugged. the majority of me wanted so desperately to leave the act of me departing. and while it wanted so intensely to let go of life, it refused to let go of the drink.
however, the tiny bit of me that was clinging to that unraveling string of life refused to let go even more.
during today’s savasana, spirit guides me to bravely connect with the parts of my body touching earth. she directs pressure to the back of my body, immediately drawing attention to my calves, biceps femoris, glutes, the numerous muscles of my back, my spine, and the occipital area of my skull. the back of my body feels whole and supported. there is warmth, comfort, and even a bit of safety.
she reminds me, “you are made of earth matter. this is nothing in which to believe. this is not a matter of opinion. this is simple fact. your bones, connective tissue, muscles, blood vessels, organs, teeth, hair… all are composed of earth matter. the spaces between the earth matter parts of you are of the same exact space referenced when one speaks of the cosmos. you are that also, and that is also simple fact. you are all of it, earth matter to stardust. it is time to embody the entire being you are while you can. experience the gift of consciousness that is living via your body, the gift of cosmos that is living via your earth matter, in this oh-so-short amount of linear time allotted to a human being.”
it dawns on me with a soft, but relentless, light: i need to be here, while i can, in this increasingly shortening life. rather than hanging out in the eternal space between the cells of my body, i am being called to reside in the dense solid ground of flesh and bones and organs that collectively make me present on earth.
my role here is not done. it still includes being blown away by being alive. however, now that i have excluded alcohol and included regular solo yoga practices (well, with spirit, when i invite her), i have evolved to love that blown-away part of my mind and am learning to connect it to my body. wholly paying attention to all physical experiences… dancing, painting, reading, writing, eating, the joys, the pains… with curiosity of life replacing fear of life… i can now experience all of it as a pure, unadulterated trip! presently, i have no desire to escape this grand earthly adventure.
unless it involves sports with balls, of course.
author bio:
lindsay luker resides in the midwest with a giant-hearted, witty-worded musician and two quirky dogs. this sweet little family dominates her life and her heart. she is a practicing doctor, a certified yoga instructor, and an ex-professional partier. she is currently cruising through her fourth year without the boozes, without the substances, and with a whole bunch of awe for this precious life.
lindsay is the author of published research (subject: grasshoppers’ reproductive cycles!); numerous yoga articles and pieces for yoga teacher training guides; and the book, “the mudras book.” however, a new calling has been internally ignited to write about addiction and sobriety to anyone interested outside of her current circle of (very) patient ears. when not walking her dogs, reading books (that can be held and smelled), painting, in meditation, sipping tea, or eating, she is either eating more or writing. her semi-spiritual perceptions of her often-relatable experiences offer insightful and fulfilling reads. please take a comfy seat, take a look, and take your time.
