Feeling hopeless? Focus on your core.


Why our Core Holds the Key to Getting Through this Pandemic

 

This past month, my group classes focused on the third, or manipura, chakra, found at the solar plexus and associated with core strength, digestion, willpower, action, and discipline.  Full disclosure- I personally don’t enjoy core work very much.  So how did this end up being one of my favorite months so far in the ‘chakra series’?

I think the secret to my aversion lies in the fact that we often don’t like that which we most need. Areas of our body that we neglect or abuse, we’re often neglecting or abusing for a reason.  We might have had an injury or illness that affected that area, or have negative associations to it from our culture or personal history.  It may be a place where we’re holding memories of trauma or storing the impact of difficult emotions.  

Though most of us think mainly of the muscles that wrap around our abdomen, the functional core actually refers to all of the muscles around our trunk and pelvis, including hip and pelvic floor muscles.  The core is responsible for our power and stability in movement.  A strong core keeps us balanced as we walk, protects our spine from excessive force, and makes physical activity easier.  

The core also houses some of our most essential organs.  Pain or discomfort in the abdomen could have a host of different sources- some benign, some very much concerning. But perhaps more importantly, our core is so intimately tied to our emotional landscape.   The butterflies of excitement, the sinking feeling of fear, the knots of anxiety, the nausea of regret?  All are experienced in our gut.  We owe the ties of this relationship to the webbing of our autonomic nervous system, which joins the brain and gut in such an elegant and comprehensive way that the gut is often referred to as our ‘second brain.’  In addition to the nervous system connection, we’re now beginning to discover the many ways that our gut microbiome plays a role, influencing everything from our emotional state to the development of autoimmune diseases.  The health of our digestive systems is inextricably intertwined with our overall health.

The Third Chakra: A Sense of Identity

Energetically speaking, the solar plexus chakra is related to our sense of self-esteem, power, individuality, and will.  It’s our source for energy and action.  And it is negatively affected by volatility, domination by others, shaming, or limited autonomy.  When this chakra is out of balance, we can go one of two ways.  We either lean toward feelings of helplessness or codependence, or, when excessive, toward aggression, dominance, and control.   Many of us are trying to avoid the former, so we end up leaning too far in the other direction out of a desire for self-preservation.  

 Sometimes this shows up as trying to control others; other times we may focus on controlling our environment, or working to eliminate uncertainty (which, news flash, is not possible).  But often, we just turn it inward.  Excess in the third chakra shows up as self-control on overdrive. 

Many of us try to address our feelings of ‘not enough,’ or ‘too much,’ or ‘I feel weak,’ by trying to force our bodies into certain shapes, through death by a thousand sit-ups or harsh deprivation diets.  It’s no coincidence that in our competitive, Type-A culture, we have been absolutely obsessed with six pack abs, flat stomachs, and arguments over the moral superiority of our diet choices.  

But what if we looked at our core in a different, more holistic way, considering its energetic qualities in addition to the physical? 

Ask yourself: 

Can I meet challenges proactively rather than reactively?  Can I accept disappointments, learn from them, and then move forward?  Do I have the ability to look at the darker aspects of my personality so that I can better understand myself and become a more integrated individual?  Or do I instead get stuck or thrown off course through denial, giving up, or letting fear or anger drive my reactions?

If we can connect with our core from a sense of curiosity and a willingness to listen, treating it as a source of information about our deeper selves, we can then use our exercise and nutrition as nourishment instead of punishment, becoming kind and benevolent parents to ourselves, rather than authoritarian dictators insistent on molding our bodies, and our Selves, into forms they were never meant to be.

Lessons on Healing

I used to have gym dates with a good friend of mine.  She was always ready to work on ‘abs.’  It was truly her favorite part of the workout.  It was, without a doubt, my least favorite.  Give me a grueling leg workout any day, but 15 minutes of abs?  Yuck.  Not for me.

As a college student, I developed an eating disorder on top of an exercise addiction.  It was my way of managing my emotions, of feeling like I was in control of something when I didn’t feel in control of my life.  Back in those days, sit-ups and planks were some of my best friends.  Feeling emptiness in my stomach was a sign of achievement, fullness a warning of failure.  It consumed me, but at the time, it felt better than being consumed with my inner turmoil.  While I was fortunate to see what I was doing pretty quickly and start shifting toward healthier choices, it wasn’t until I started to dive deeper into my yoga practice that I could see clearly: the unhealthy focus on my diet and exercise was coming from a desire to avoid painful emotions and repressed trauma: to keep from feeling things I didn’t want to feel.  

It was only by finally attending to those needs that I began to heal.   I felt at home in my body for the first time in a long time. The older I got, the more self-accepting I became.  My belly became my best friend, a sign that I was focused on living life and taking care of myself.  My gut housed wisdom and strength instead of shame or pain.  Movement was a celebration of the gift of a healthy body rather than an apology for taking up space.  Food was chosen for both nourishment AND enjoyment, rather than to numb feelings or punish myself.  And even core work had new meaning: to build heat; to encourage steadiness and stability; an opportunity to practice accepting challenges with grace and patience and continuous breath; to connect with my inner strength.   

Of course, over time, the body changes, and so do its needs.  We get older or busier or injured or sick.   What was a healthy practice for us at one time may become detrimental.  And in times of great stress, we may need to shift toward gentler approaches, like cutting out the intensity and focusing on restorative practices.   A couple of years ago I went through one such phase.   The stress I was under due to my schedule necessitated that I take my foot off the gas when it came to my exercise routine.  I’d like to say I was wise enough at the time to make that decision proactively, but I wasn’t.  Injuries started popping up, seemingly out of nowhere. And more yoga wasn’t helping. In fact, it was actually doing more harm than good.  Finally, after some prodding from my very wise partner, I threw in the towel.  This meant a huge dial back in my exercise routine; no more ashtanga/vinyasa flow sessions; not even the slow but intense yin stretches.  Overnight, my yoga practice became almost unrecognizable.  On many days it more closely resembled a yoga nidra session than it did an asana practice.  Comfort, quiet, stillness, and ease became my best friends.  And again, I healed.  

But as it is wont to do, the pendulum has once again begun to swing the other way.  My schedule is more balanced, I’m no longer under a time of great stress, and thus it is once again time for my practice to change.  Over the last five or six months, in response to the messages I was getting from my body, strength building has once again become the foundation of my exercise routine.  And last month, just as I turned my classes toward a focus on the core, core work became a feature in my own sessions.  My personal aversion started to rear its ugly head- it has been a year marked by uncertainty, fear, stress, and challenge, and core work is inevitably going to poke at that!  But once I started reaping the rewards, the work became much more palatable.  Because stimulating the solar plexus also stokes our inner fire, fuels our personal will, and drives us toward action.  It gives us the energy to overcome our fatigue, to shift from helplessness to determination, to withstand any challenge and continue the good fight.  And these are the qualities required from us right now.  

Stronger Together

Now, some of us ARE too tired, too sick, too burnt out to keep pushing.  If you have lost your job or a loved one; are battling COVID or managing your own or a family member’s chronic illness; or are an essential worker in the front lines everyday, it’s probably time to focus on restorative practices to rebuild your reserves.  For you, finding balance may mean taking the time for stillness, for ease, for processing emotions.  And it most definitely will mean finding support from others- people you can lean on, who will lend you a helping hand or a listening ear for as long as you need it.  Who will sit with you as you navigate the unknown.

If, like me, you have been fortunate enough to get back to work safely, keep your loved ones healthy, and avoid some of the biggest hits from this pandemic, you are likely still feeling helpless, overwhelmed, and exhausted from witnessing the pain being endured by countless others.  Know this: your sadness is valid, your fatigue is real, and rest is well-deserved.  At the same time, you don’t have to give in to the sense of helplessness.  You have more strength sitting inside you than you realize.  And right now might be a good time to start stoking the fire again.  Because when others are too tired or beaten down to continue the fight, it is up to us to cultivate the inner strength and resilience we need to reach out and lift them up.  

In October, I’m moving the focus onto the heart chakra.  The order is no accident: we cannot sustain compassion and connection if we’re feeling depleted.  We cannot reach into the depths to heal from the grief of loss without a solid sense of self and inner strength.  Just as we are asked to put our own oxygen masks on first, we must make sure that we are stable and pulling from a full well before we can turn our attention to others.  To heal the world, we must first heal ourselves.