The Body: A Regenerating Miracle
By Theresa Shay
In a moment of no-mindfulness, I smashed my own finger in my front door.
I know exactly what I was thinking about when it happened: what to create for you. One second, I was musing over the content for an Instagram reel on my way to Kaliji’s Live Online Basics class. The next second I was hopping around on my front porch clutching my right hand, unable to take a deep breath. My front door was standing open, not snugly closed in the latch where I had forcefully directed it to go.
I spent the yoga class lying on my back with my hand in the air for the full “elevate” effect. I tried to put ice on it, but that seemed to hurt more. By the end of deep relaxation, the entire nail was black and blue and so sensitive I couldn’t look at it without pain.
The next week was spent with a huge bandage around my middle finger to keep anything and everything from bumping it. At our Zoom admin meeting Jess noticed. As she might lovingly and sincerely ask her son – a dear, sweet, sensitive soul - she inquired, “Do you really need such a big bandage?”
Even as I type this, I’m laughing, because I probably didn’t. Glenn often comes home from a day on the construction site and tells me what body part he bammed, jammed, or strained, or the 12 splinters he removed and the one that he couldn’t dig out, and how he just kept working anyway. I am, simply put, not designed for that.
My big bandage helped me relax as I slept, in case Glenn rolled too close. It kept me protected as I pulled bags of produce out of the fridge for Glenn to chop. My bulbous wrap reminded me not to use my finger to type “k” or “i” or the comma, and not to zip up my jeans with my right hand. Who knew how many activities brush the nail of one’s middle finger?
My neighbor Farmer Mike agreed with Glenn, Jenny-Joy, and Joe, that I should I puncture a hole in the nail to drain the blood. Glenn explained how he could use his vice and power drill to relieve the pressure. He wasn’t kidding. I couldn’t imagine how he’d know when to stop. Glenn said I could hold the drill if I wanted. I was not convinced that any part of this was a good idea.
As it was, yoga was fine. I was able to do Earth mudra, Cat Bows, Mountains, Cobras, and everything else. I just had to watch the transition to Half Boat, where the back of the hand can flow along the earth on the way back to Om mudra at the sides. That was easy enough to navigate, so I decided to live without the DIY Hole Drilled in Nail.
One sunny morning at the computer (still typing with finger #4 for all the finger #3 moves), blood began to drain out the top of my nail, sixteen days after the accident. Now the nail is no longer black and blue, though I’d say it does not look vibrant. The big question Glenn and I discuss is whether I will lose the nail. He, from experience, believes this is likely.
For now I am keeping a Band-Aid around the fingernail, a much more streamlined wrapping. Before the blood drained out this spared people the grotesque color. Now it keeps the nail close in case it decides to loosen its purchase on my finger.
I posted a picture of my blackened finger on Instagram stories. Turns out, the algorithm favors injuries and gross body images. The story was shown to over 100 people when my usual stories about nature, relaxation, the gift of TriYoga, might be shown to 20 or 30 viewers. I’ve questioned how much my social media investment helps share the wisdom of TriYoga. This experience has proven that what the algorithm prioritizes is not at all in the best interest of our health! Keep that in mind if you spend a lot of time scrolling. Likewise, don’t be thinking about the next reel you want to create as you slam the door on the way to yoga.
Instead, meet the feeling of fresh air as you open the door, feel of the doorknob under your hand, hold all five fingers close to the palm. Then close the door mindfully and hear the precious sound of wood meeting wood. Ah, that’s way it’s meant to be done.
For the moments you are not closing a door mindfully, give thanks for the wisdom of the body which has the power to heal itself. We are living a regenerative miracle. Ten fingernails and 10 toenails to remind us it is so.
Today I am treasuring each and every one of them.
Theresa Shay is the founding director of TriYoga of Central Pennsylvania, where she teaches weekly yoga and meditation online and trains others to teach TriYoga®. Each week, she shares wisdom cultivated from decades of TriYoga study and practice.
Learn more about her here. Theresa can be reached at Theresa@PennsylvaniaYoga.com. Find her on Instagram @theresa_of_triyoga for more inspiration and light.