After recently straining my back, I decided to get back to a daily practice of plank position exercises. The postural technique is not new for me; whether in yoga or martial arts training, I’ve held the pose countless times in work-outs and classes. My physical frame is not that large. So the position known as ‘plank’ has always come easily. Over the years, I’ve found that I can hold it quite long, often more dependent on the fatigue in my arms rather than my abdominal-lumbo-hip muscle complex. Consequently, I’ve always felt that my core was fairly strong.
How wrong I have been! Guided by an on-line recording which urged me to flatten my back as if I was holding a plate of food atop it, I realized, quite suddenly one day, that I’ve not been engaging all of my core muscle group when I have previously moved into plank position. In fact, my back has not been flat, my lower body not aligned with my head and shoulders. Only some of the core muscle complex were previously activated when I’ve somewhat indifferently lifted myself into position. A key component of my core strength complex – my abdominals – were not pulling their weight at all.
Where I thought I was strong, I was, surprisingly, weak.
It’s not fun to discover new frailties, especially ones that once felt were our strengths in our routines. Sure, the insight can enable a person to improve; there is power in the uncovering of potential. But it is also humbling to be shown by life that, no matter the number of years we have breathed, we always have so much more to learn. And things which we thought we knew, some of which we understood to be easy, are not so straightforward after all. What is simple becomes hard. What is known is once more mysterious.
When I first realized the error in how I held plank position, I felt as if I was experiencing my body anew. How could I have missed this? Wow, the proper position was not so effortless, how I breathed not so comfortable, how long I could hold the posture not so predictable. I dropped to my knees after half a minute, and rolled onto the floor in laughter. Just one more example of the insidious influence of arrogance in my life! How many more such conceits had I yet to uncover?
The list appears to be long. Beginning with muscle mechanics, I reach when I shouldn’t, don’t lift with my legs to protect my back, rely more on one side of my body to perform certain functions when I have two fully capable and complementary sets of physical tools. Slow down, my awareness reminds me. Bring attention to action, I tell my seemingly autonomous extremities and digits. You don’t know everything. You didn’t even know what plank position actually was.
Of course there are other areas in my life where routine has been substituted for mastery, assumption replaced insight, pride masqueraded as purposeful engagement. And those parts of my life are not as easy to recognize and change. How I judge, for example. How I compare. The silly desire to succeed – and to be seen as succeeding. The fear I carry for the world and the people I love. Memories of my mistakes. Maybe even a deeply held belief that I am not worthy of unconditional acceptance by the Creator of this world and the prime moving force and spirit behind my being.
Am I really as adept and capable in the central parts of my life where I may think I am most fit and vital?
I know I am not. Fortunately, that is not weakness, at least not necessarily. Because when I am able to experience my days and the world through fresh eyes, I am able to grow. When I am able to grow, I am able to let go. When I learn to let go, I am able to better be: to better be versus always trying to be a better me. I don’t fully appreciate the difference there. I know, however, that an important distinction exists, instinctively sense that ‘being better’ involves a deeper level of participation in my daily habits and activities. It means an openness to learning new things – and to relearning things that I thought I knew. It involves releasing the embrace of the past on the potential for the future.
There can be wonder unveiled by weakness, fresh renewal possible through fragility. My physical plank position is much improved following the realization that I had not understood its form properly. Perhaps other parts of my core, once re-examined, can find similar strengthening.