Warrior Pose (48 page)

CHAPTER 30

Closure

A
HAND REACHES OUT and touches my shoulder as I'm walking through the hospital courtyard one afternoon. “Excuse me, my name is Richard. I think you're the person some friends have told me about who is healing a broken back with Yoga?”

“Yes, that's me,” I answer with a smile, feeling a sudden sense of worth, like I have something to offer someone in need. “It's really helping me. You should check it out.”

Richard looks like an avant-garde European movie star, with dark eyebrows, piercing green eyes, and a thick shock of blond hair falling across one side of his face. But his lean, athletic body is twisted in pain. He limps on a badly damaged ankle and holds his head tilted unnaturally to one side. Richard shares with me that he was chief executive of a hi-tech company, with a wife, two children, and a beautiful home in one of San Diego's most exclusive neighborhoods. He was also under great stress and dealt with his demons by drinking himself into a stupor every night.

He had endless drunken outbursts in front of his family, and numerous drunk-driving arrests. Then one morning, Richard woke up in a roadside ditch with a broken ankle, fractured shin, and wrenched neck. He had no idea where he was or how long he'd been there. When he finally got to a hospital, where his wounds were treated and he sobered up, Richard discovered his drinking had cost him everything. His beloved Mercedes sports car was in the wrecking yard.

His company's board of directors had fired him. A restraining order forbid him from returning home.

Having had plenty of psychological turmoil myself, I can see that Richard harbors deep insecurities and emotional wounds. It's etched in his face and even more evident when he speaks. His words are fraught with fear and anger. He vacillates between hope and despondency. But his intelligence and charisma manage to shine through his suffering and darkness. Despite his desperation and vulnerability, there's something inside of him that makes me think he has a real chance to pull it together.

“I want to get back to where I was,” Richard tells me. “Be with my kids again, fix things up with my wife, get my career back.”

Richard is now in the residential program, but he tells me he doesn't like AA. He's heard about the changes I've made, and he wants to do Yoga, too. In fact, it's all he wants to do. I support and encourage him in every way possible, but make it clear to him that I strongly oppose his desire to drop out of the residential program and join the Pain Center full time. Even though he disdains the AA program for reasons I can't understand, he doesn't seem anywhere near ready to walk the path of sobriety on his own. So we make a plan. We'll ask the Pain Center to allow him to take Yoga as long as he promises to be fully committed to the requirements of the residential program.

I meet with Dr. Kozin and give him a strong pitch for Richard. He agrees with the idea and it only takes a few days before Richard learns that he is approved for Yoga, with the caveat that he remains fully committed to the residential program. When he gets the news, he's ecstatic. “I'm going to do Yoga!” Richard gleefully tells me one morning as my driver drops me off at the curb of the McDonald complex. “I've been waiting here to tell you. The Pain Center has agreed to let me enroll in a few Yoga classes. I've been able to sort out a schedule and I start tomorrow!”

“That's great news, Richard!” I say, putting an arm around his shoulder as he limps along beside me. “Go slowly. Don't push it. Breathe deeply all the time. And if you run into Ms. Mason, don't let her get you down.”

As we enter the complex, Richard turns left toward his first morning meeting. I turn right toward the stairs to the Pain Center. I've liked this man since the moment we met, and as I watch him limp away I whisper a prayer of hope that he'll find healing and eventually create a new life for himself.
No more stress. No more painkillers. No more booze. A life of health, happiness, and wholeness. May it be so for Richard, and may it be so for me.

My own fourteen years of alcohol and medications were a terrible tradeoff. In return for reduction of my pain, I surrendered my physical and emotional health. Now, with Yoga, the heavy veils I placed over my Soul are slowly lifting, one by one, revealing something inside me that disappeared long ago. My emotions are shifting from anger and fear to acceptance, confidence, and even a little bit of humility. I'm moving away from being a self-pitying victim and starting to take responsibility for my life. A feeling I had forgotten existed now visits me daily. The word that comes closest to describing it is
hope
.

Every move I make, from climbing the stairs to sitting for dinner, getting in and out of a car, standing before the concierge to order more books, or slipping into a hot bath, is now an act of Yoga. I pay close attention to where my balance is, which parts of my body are twisting, flexing, or engaging, and how good it feels to harmonize the rhythm of my breath with the movement of my body. I'm also taking greater charge of my life. I no longer need Biofeedback. I listen to Dr. Miller's audiotapes in my hotel room almost every night and know visualization works without having electrodes and monitors proving it to me. I've pared down my schedule at the Pain Center to Yoga, Physical Therapy, and an occasional Jin Shin Jyutsu session. I find ways to cancel every meeting with Ms. Mason, and vow I'll only see her if I'm threatened with expulsion. Luckily, it's yet to become an issue.

With a shorter schedule, I can get back to my hotel room earlier to study and practice more of the deeper, mind-body aspects of
Yoga. There's a great complexity to this science, yet also an elegant simplicity—a pureness of logic that resonates with my analytical mind.
Pranayama
, the mastery of our life force, known as
Prana
, is the science of controlled breathing. It purifies, balances, energizes, and oxygenates the body. My books say it also boosts the immune system, enhances circulation of the blood, and massages the heart muscle. Meditation lowers blood pressure, reduces stress, and calms the emotions. I lived most of my life being judgmental and combative. This seemed normal to me and always helped me advance my career. Now I understand how it also stressed me out. Breathing deeply and meditating on calmness and acceptance feels so much better than always being on guard.

I'm also learning that all the
Asanas
(poses) have profound physiological, neurological, and even psychological benefits. Twists promote digestion and elimination, tone the abdominal organs, and quiet the nervous system. Forward bends relieve anxiety, stress, and depression; stimulate the liver and kidneys; and calm the mind. Backbends energize, open the area of the heart center, promote courage, and counter fatigue. The more I study, the more I also realize that this barely touches the surface of what Yoga offers. I see it as the ultimate science of how to be a human being in body, mind, and Soul. It's self-healing at the highest level, powerful medicine with no side effects, a completely natural way to heal and thrive. I'm totally hooked.

My usual bacon and egg breakfasts, meat sandwich lunches, and steak dinners always seemed sumptuous and hearty. The science of Yoga recommends a vegetarian diet. Even though I'm not ready for this, red meat and pork now taste greasy and heavy to me, no longer appetizing. It must be the power of suggestion. Or maybe I only liked these foods because I associated them with the “good life.” Either way, red meat and pork are gone. I've substituted granola and fruit for breakfast, salads and soups for lunch, and fish or poultry for dinner. I eat more slowly, chew more thoroughly, and really taste the food. This makes me satisfied with smaller portions at every meal. As a result, the new pants I just bought are already too loose, and my extra-large T-shirts now droop over me like sacks.

Pain episodes still strike when least expected. Sometimes I go into my old mode and start to despair. I want to down some painkillers, curl up into a ball, and scream out loud. Then I catch myself and remember all my new tools. The first step is to stop myself from reacting and getting tense. Instead, I breathe deeply, visualizing the pain as a wave that will come and go. Then I do restorative poses, chant my mantras, and relax myself as much as possible. It's worked every time so far.

With less of the stress that pain creates, my energy is increasing. Every morning I feel a little more vibrant and alive. Where I used to be really shut down and completely opposed to making an effort or trying new things, I now feel adventurous. So I try to take the stairs up to the Pain Center every day and even climb the stairs for a few floors at the hotel every morning and evening before surrendering to the elevator. It would be impossible for me to make all twelve stories, but I've made it from the lobby to the fourth floor. My sights are now on the fifth.

I'm also growing more flexible by the day. A few months ago, I could barely touch my knees while trying to do a seated forward fold. Now I can almost reach my toes. I can sit cross-legged on the floor without back support for a few minutes at a time. My spine is coming into a more natural alignment. I'm exploring basic hip openers, more advanced backbends, deeper twists, and more powerful lateral extensions. This physical progress might not be the ultimate goal of Yoga, but it's profoundly inspiring and empowering. Every time I take a pose the slightest bit farther, the light of hope shines more brightly within me.

While I remain heavily focused on Yoga postures, breath work, and meditation, the core of my being continues to be drawn to the spiritual aspects of this ancient practice. The more I study it, the more I'm convinced that it transcends religion and dogma. Yoga urges us to see the unity in all things rather than focus on our differences. I witnessed as a foreign correspondent that when religious, social, and/ or political systems see themselves as the only legitimate way, others can become adversaries and enemies. This has promoted intolerance and fanaticism throughout the ages, leading to misunderstandings,
condemnations, conflicts, and wars. Yoga offers something different, and I find myself drawn to it like I've been lost in a desert and suddenly an oasis has come into view.

Yoga also holds that self-indulgence and materialism never bring happiness. The more we look externally for a sense of satisfaction in our lives, the more we are destined to suffer. It reminds me of all the stories I've read about people who attained great wealth or fame in their lives yet were miserable and often killed themselves with drugs and alcohol. I remember, too, how as a journalist I was happiest when I was in a third world country or a war zone, like the time in the mountains of northern Iraq when my little bottle of Tabasco, Swiss Army Knife, and a piece of twine were all I needed.

Yoga also teaches me that there is a Divine Being within each of us, and that merging back with this inner essence is the journey of transformation and spiritual unity. It advises me to be still and quiet, really connect with the present moment, and—perhaps most importantly—release my ego and concentrate on my sense of higher power. It also advises me to continually contemplate who I really am at the deepest level, and to seek to be the very best person that I can be. This means even more humility, more compassion, and more gratitude for what I have in my life rather than worrying about what's lacking.

Stillness and silence used to be disconcerting. Now they're rich and delicious. I no longer turn on the TV and allow myself to be seduced by its nonsensical cacophony. My interest in the bestseller novels I used to crave has been replaced by Yoga studies. Stepping onto my balcony at night and gazing at the vast phantasmagoria of the heavens is bedazzling. All this gives me a sense that I'm being reborn. Brad Willis the global journalist died long ago. Brad Willis the permanently disabled man with a broken back is passing away. I even wonder if one day, just maybe, Brad Willis the cancer victim might be gone as well. The authentic person within me has been suppressed for years. Now that person is coming alive as a fledgling Yogi.