The human body is an amazing organism. If you want it to execute a task, it will find a way to make it happen, working around any physical limitations to twist itself into position. It also will protect itself from pain. If you have an old injury or an underused muscle that is too weak for the job, the body will find a way to avoid making that part carry the load.

Much of this happens without the involvement of our conscious awareness. Motor neurons fire together and do what they need to do. You can go through a lifetime of moving your body and not realize that you’re using the wrong muscles. Until your weaknesses lead to injury, or you realize you’re not building strength.

And then comes the work of rebuilding from the ground up.

This has been the story of my year.

Following years of injuries and using my body in ways that caused some muscles to shut off completely (hello glutes, lats, feet, adductors, abductors!) and other muscles to take on too much work (talking to you, pecs and hip flexors), this year I dove into the physical realm to rebuild my foundation and learn proper movement patterns.

The Paradox of Growth

Many people say “growth happens out of your comfort zone,” but that’s not exactly true. If you want to build physical strength, or increase your flexibility, the body must feel safe first. You cannot push your edge if you’re not on a solid foundation. So you must be within your comfort zone.

And yet if you stay completely safe, you don’t push your edge. You must be willing to get uncomfortable.

This is the paradox of growth: you need to assure the body that it is safe to push its edge, which means creating a solid physical foundation and a base of support for your body. At the same time, you also need to push your edge and be willing to lean into the discomfort.

If you try to push too far, too fast, the body will push back. It might shut down — sometimes abruptly — to end your efforts. That’s its way of saying “I don’t feel safe here.” But if you don’t push it enough, you won’t find your edge. Either of those scenarios means you’re not growing stronger.

Where is the line?

I’ve been in inquiry around this for most of this year.

Through months of daily physical therapy, two yoga teacher trainings, working with movement coaches and trainers, on the surfboard, on the yoga mat, bouncing on a trampoline, swinging on a flying trapeze bar, and in every step I’ve taken on two coasts in two countries, I’ve been in a constant conversation with my body.

Some days it speaks in sharp sensations, and other times it speaks in dull aches. It may speak instantly in a movement or hours later.
I listen, but, to be honest, I haven’t always known what it’s saying. I spent so many years ignoring it that I’m still learning to make sense of what it tells me.

We are still getting to know each other. So sometimes I think I push too far and sometimes I don’t think I push enough.
It often seems that finding the line may be the work of a lifetime.

And so it is.

A daily practice of exploring the edge and learning where the line is that will help me grow.