Impermanence, Impermanence, Impermanence

All life is impermanence.
The other day, while teaching the yoga therapy class of the day, after kneeling to guide a student how to execute a supported posture, I rose to find my knee wouldn't straighten all the way. Not only that, it hurt. Quite a bit. Naturally, I spent the next several minutes bending and straightening my knee forcibly and repetitively in hopes that it would jar back into alignment - forced nirvana. I am standing amidst my student learning how to support others into a deep somatic inquiry, listening to their bodyheartmind, finding their edge, and then hanging out there, listening for wisdom, and I, the facilitator of this learning, am thrusting my knee into extension and flexion. Is this proper alignment?

I am of the nature to become ill. There is no way to avoid becoming ill.
I am of the nature to grow old. There is no way to avoid growing old.
I am of the nature to die. There is no way to avoid death.
All that I love and everyone that is dear to me is of the nature to change. There is no way to avoid being separated from them.
My actions are my only true belonging. I cannot escape the consequences of my actions. My actions are the ground on which I stand.

These are the Five Remembrances that the Buddha taught. While I believe I can readily accept the third, forth and fifth Remembrances, I struggle with the first two. Teaching naturopathic medical student at Bastyr University calls into question my worldview about these two statements.

Many students have the belief that with the right remedy, the right diet, the right approach, the right mindset, they can heal anything, including the world. Granted, much on this planet is in need of healing. Conventional medicine has quick and expedient remedies to make pain abate and to change the appearance of things without examining to the underlying cause, if one can ever truly arrive at the cause. Wholistic approaches suggest that more can be done. But how much more? It makes me wonder what is it that I am truly searching for? Is it relief of pain, or is it a change of self-image that an illness or injury suggests (I can't possibly be ill, sick, feeble, infirm)? How do I balance my search to relieve suffering and yet be open to the moment? Where and when does the search end?

Over the next few days, I met with people who were dealing with these questions on a personal level. Two clients had severe back injuries that required surgery, and now their mobility is limited. How, both of them wondered, do I learn to accept the moment and what is, and yet seek treatment? How can I look at my knee, accept the pain and limitations it is demonstrating in the moment, and still find possible relief?

As I sat and meditated on my knee, I realized the multitude of thoughts charging through my brain, although one theme predominated. It sounds something like, How the hell can you teach yoga/movement therapy and have an injury? This means you are a failure?
And another message kept recycling through my head, If you were really balanced, this wouldn't have happened! It is your fault!

I prefer to think of life as an experiment. Researchers ask questions. Many times, the answers are not as important as the questions. When experimenting, we tend to keep an open, spacious and curious attitude regarding the subject of our inquiry, yet remain a bit detached from outcome. What would it be like to have that approach with my knee, my health, and my life? For starters, I imagine I would soothe and settle, allowing my nervous system some time to relax, since I wouldn’t always be trying to fix, adjust, solve or prove anything. Just experiment. My knee hurts, but what happens if I do this (acupuncture, homeopathy, prayer, wheat-free brownies)? There is no right or wrong, only consequences. Then the decision is mine, are these consequences I wish to entertain?

The trauma to my right knee shakes my self-concept. I am supposed to be X, Y and Z. If I experiment, I can begin to play with the self-concept I have been desperately clinging to. After all, it is my nature to become ill, there is no way I can escape becoming ill.