Focusing on Ability
in Dis-Ability of Yoga
Elizabeth Wojtowicz
It was a deep craving for oneness and a desire to belong that brought me to yoga. Yes, I wanted to learn how to alleviate and work with my anxiety. More than that, though, I needed an authentic connection to a sacred community and a feeling of mutual support. In short, I wanted to be part of a sangha, a community separate from my family. Not only did I crave community I could call my own, I was driven by a deep need for a sense of independence and initiative.
As a very young girl at school, I was incredibly shy—I mean, painfully! I would not speak to anyone and even a “bribe” from my aide wouldn’t get me to open my mouth. At home with my family, however, a place where I felt comfortable and safe, I was what one would call a “Chatty Cathy.” My extreme shyness with others outside my family, though, was in effect paralyzing me in countless ways. Ultimately, it translated into a lack of self-confidence and led to my increasing disconnection to my familiar surroundings. In fact, I attribute my shyness, lack of self-confidence, and increased disconnection, to that of my disability, cerebral palsy. Cerebral palsy (CP) is a neurological disconnection of the brain to the upper and lower extremities of the body. As such, collectively, my desire for connection, community, and friendship outside my home evaded me and were outside my grasp. Using crutches or a walker to help me get around independently made me feel like I stuck out like a “sore thumb.” CP affects my gait (or, the way that I walk), so just by the way that I was walking (deeply side to side, at times crooked), I already looked different, and using mobility aides didn’t help me to look less so. I would get a lot of stares from kids and I heard them whisper, all of which exacerbated my shyness. In fact, it wouldn’t be until years later where my mama would stare back at the person who was staring at me to make a point. “What? You haven’t seen anyone with canes or crutches before?” While it was always said out of love, I disliked the attention those statements drew to me. In fact, her stare downs with others made me want to go deeper into hiding.
Craving Connection
Often, I would watch my able-bodied family members participate in countless sports; from tennis to soccer to competitions in baton twirling. As I would watch others and their teams compete, rally, and support one another, I was struck with a sense of wonder (and at other times, jealousy). I was often left out, on the sidelines of these activities and, what seemed to me, life in general. As these experiences continued, I grew more and more disconnected from myself and the capabilities I did possess.
I felt small.
I felt like a burden to those around me.
I felt very heavy emotionally.
These are the stories that created deep wounds, wounds I probably would not have examined had it not been for my introduction to yoga years later. At the time, as it was happening to me, I felt extremely unwanted and incredibly incapable.
Surprisingly, even though I was young and lacked experience, somewhere deep down I knew that these experiences would not define me or what I could or could not do forever. Despite my sense of isolation and disconnection and pangs of occasional jealousy and rejection, I knew that these experiences would serve as the catalyst of who I would eventually become, who I am today, and who I am becoming. And that pearl of realization fueled me.
When I was nineteen, I began to understand what cerebral palsy meant for me long-term. CP is a neurological condition that creates disconnection of muscle coordination and movement and it is often a result of a birth trauma. My CP was caused due to premature birth. I was born three and a half months early, weighing in at one pound five ounces. Often being labeled as “one that would ask many questions” (and I still do … I am VERY curious), my mama shared with me from the beginning that I stopped breathing for a little bit. That lack of oxygen to my brain is what caused my CP. Yes, it was hard in many ways, but after all these years, I see that I was and am blessed with a mild form of CP.
The faith, love, and support from my family is what helped me deepen that connection and realization that although I may not have strong legs like everybody else, I still have a deeper strength and connection to a more magical ability, yoga. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy by any means, but I was as ready as I’d ever be to create a newfound connection between my body and physical challenges that I had to work with.
As many of us who are a part of this community know, yoga is about UNITING, creating that unification of mind, body, and spirit, and I wanted to learn how to UNITE all the disconnected parts of Self to create that connection of acceptance to my body—a body that I KNOW was different physically from those around me. I wanted to learn to embrace my disability and the way my body looked and worked, from an integrated, wholehearted perspective. And yoga helps me toward that acceptance, toward that integrated wholehearted perspective of my different physical body. Yes, yoga is physical, no doubt, and I feel much stronger, but yoga for me is more about how we want to show up in the world, through our own hearts with love and when I learn to show up in the world through my heart, with love, it brings about a collaborative connection, that sense of community which then in turn presented me with a new understanding and appreciation for my body.
I was hungry and craving attention and independence, two things that lead back to connection. Connection in turn creates unification, which is what yoga is all about. I believe that many of us (and I include myself in this) do not like to admit that we want attention, especially when having a physical disability. I already was getting a lot of attention for needing more physical help than my younger or older sisters, or anyone else who was able-bodied. Where I believe my craving for connection was quite dominant was when I was in my early twenties.
Imagine hearing things that made you often attribute those words into doubt, blame, and shame. Looking back on that, I would attribute that translation to my negative body image. It was short lived, but at the time of maturity and growth, it established in me a feeling of deep anxiety and shame, which in turn translated into what seemed like craving attention. But the attention that I wanted was connection that would slowly lead to independence, which would lead to me taking the initiative. That deep disconnection of my body and the motivation to understand it, was what brought me closer to that craving for independence and autonomy. For so long growing up, I felt left out of social events, but it wasn’t until years later when yoga came into my life that I started to realize that I am independent in many aspects of my life through this powerful practice. Yes, I still am living with Mama and Dad now in my late twenties, and they help me to be in a community with like-minded people, but the moment I slowly get onto my mat (whether in a class or at home), I am claiming my spot. And that is my way toward one (of many) aspects of independence. And for that, I have yoga and this supportive community of teachers and my students to thank for my (growing and evolving) “Independent Initiative.”
Balance in Body
Balance is not only physical but it is also emotional. My life journey with cerebral palsy for twenty-seven years has been what feels like nothing but “finding my balance” (whether it be physically, emotionally, spiritually, energetically) in my body. But what I have come to realize and learn through this practice, is that balance (top to bottom) is what translates through yoga as, harmony. Through the physical challenges of this disability (through many years of physical therapy and occupational therapy), I had to learn how to harmonize the disconnection (and pain) between my brain and my body by paying attention to what my body needed or did not need (and boy, my body KNEW and KNOWS how to communicate what it didn’t or doesn’t need, let me tell you). And in learning how to balance that and harmonize that, I came to understand that I will have to keep learning to find that balance between my “Independence Initiative” (more so than the “average” able-bodied person might), what I can do on my own with minimal or no help, and what I need help with and how to ask for it. With that understanding comes great acceptance, and with acceptance comes harmony.
Emotionally, I had to come to accept that my body does have to work physically harder to just stand on both feet as evenly as possible (even with crutches) or that I probably won’t “do” the Detox Flow Yoga class like the teacher designed and sequenced it. But the beauty that I have slowly come to love about my body, through my yoga practice and teaching, is that the balance that my body expresses (whether it’s how to stand, or “Take the Initiative”) —that is my body’s balance and my body’s way of harmonizing and bringing about—connection. Connecting to that balance in my emotional body is what created that shift from the negative body image that I had due to my anxiety and hunger for connection. It is something that I work on continuously (to the best of my ability and strength), but it is something that I know is in my control and that is a very empowering feeling.
Acceptance in Ability
Acceptance is challenging in many aspects of our life because life asks us to come to terms with what we have been given or what has been or is presented in front of us and to do the best that we can with what we have. And it took me quite a few years and experience to get to a place of acceptance with the ability that I did have and do have. With this community of like-minded people, I have come to realize that the connection and the feeling of connection is what helped me to accept and appreciate my abilities and capabilities. Yes, I do use crutches and sometimes a tripod walker, but my crutches or my walker do not define me or who I am. I am not my crutches. I am not my walker. I am not my mobility aides. I use them for the simple (but profound) ability to connect in the sangha—what in yoga is community. A defining moment in acceptance toward my ability and “Independent Initiative” came in November 2015 for a special writing retreat in California. I try to never say never but I never ever traveled on my own without Mama or Dad, so when I said, out loud to Mama, “I am going to go to this. Someway, somehow it’s gonna happen,” I really didn’t know how it was going to happen, I just knew it was going to happen. (This is where being a Jersey Girl Type A personality is gratifying, ha!). But in all seriousness, I felt (and feel) proud that I grew up with loving, caring, supportive, hard-working immigrant parents in a state that made you “rough and tough,” if you will, because all of those experiences, teachings, and learnings have given me the tenacious, determined spirit that I am proud to possess … because through the hard work of connection, fund raising, writing, and sharing … I flew to the Golden State by myself and my faith toward an acceptance in my ability and my independent initiative I did not know was truly possible. And for that, I have my body (and all of its challenges) to thank. This disability is what has given me the ability to transform my tribulations into triumphs and my challenges into constructive catalysts for change.
Tenacious to Teach
It is a blessing and a privilege to be able to share my abilities in a way that may not be “mainstream” but that, in and of itself, is very motivating. Six years ago, when I was inspired to enroll in a 200-hour teacher training course to teach yoga, I really didn’t feel scared or intimidated. Ever since I started my yoga practice eight years ago, I never had the intention to teach yoga, but there was something in me that knew that this was something I needed to do for myself. Teaching yoga for five years now has taught me the importance of connecting, of listening, of always learning. For me, on a deeply profound level, there has been (and is) tremendous gratitude in the opportunity to work with and teach people with physical and/or other challenges. Seeing their tremendous, zest for life, for the breath connecting to their body (often for the very first time probably in their life), is truly incredible. Playing “Yoga Bingo” as the private yoga class and practice for young girls who learned they have CP, is unlike anything I would have ever imagined. The joy in a face when one did butterfly pose or dolphin (despite some obvious challenges) was truly a blessing to be a part of, in their discovery, fun, creativity, and play. Teaching yoga to able-bodied students versus students with physical disabilities, has been (and is) a blessing, an honor, and a privilege. My students teach me so much; whether it’s in a private class, a group class, at a studio, or at the Cerebral Palsy of North Jersey Center in Wayne, New Jersey, we are all dealing with our own challenges in life; it’s just that some are more visible than others. The only thing that makes us different is the attitude with which we approach those challenges.
The practice of yoga and the relationship that is cultivated between our breath and body is what has helped me to learn to cultivate continued positive body image. Being a woman with a disability in the world today in many ways inspires me to be a voice for those who don’t believe that they can do it or that they are worth it or that it’s okay … because I have been there. It has brought me great confidence to connect, reach out, speak out toward various issues that are not only happening locally but globally as well, thanks to an amazing nonprofit grassroots organization that I am blessed to be a passionate participant of for six years now (and continuing), “Off the Mat Into the World,” founded by a dear teacher whom I greatly respect. Through common concern for worldly issues such as undereducated children in Cambodia, the inadequate services for mothers-to-be to give birth in a remote village in Uganda, HIV/AIDS in South Africa, relief and reconstruction of the tsunami aftermath in Haiti, sex trafficking in India, political awareness of the destruction of the Amazon Rainforest in Ecuador, awareness of FGM, and early childhood marriage in Kenya (having passionately participated in awareness building and fund raising with Haiti, India, Ecuador, and Kenya, and ongoing in the near future), I am truly blessed and truly grateful for my OTM “Soul family.” I have learned so much about myself; my strengths, my weaknesses, my passions, my curiosities through this beautifully blessed platform of like-minded teachers, healers, inspirations … Activism for our collective, collaborative consciousness and collaborative connection.
Yes, I have a lot of growing up to do (and as far as I’m concerned, no matter what age we are, we are always growing up), but through my teaching, I hope to inspire (and in turn, be inspired) that our challenges, our anxieties, our confusions, our questions, our curiosities … are what make us human, and it is okay to ask, to reach out, because in the end, what we want is a reintegration of connection, which leads to a love bigger than we could have ever imagined. I am honored and I am privileged to teach and practice with my challenges, as a way to empower my students (of all abilities) through attitude and acceptance.
Elizabeth Wojtowicz is a Challenged Yoga Teacher, student, writer, aspiring author, Integrative Nutrition Health Coach, and lover of the beautiful grassroots non-profit “Off the Mat Into the World.” Author photo by Sarit Z Rogers.