Lower Back Pain

The Ego, the Body, and the Practice

I’ve been feeling a bit frustrated lately. Towards the end of 2024, I felt really good in my body and with my asana practice. Now I’m in the birthplace of Ashtanga yoga and have to adapt my practice because my body isn’t doing what I want it to do. (I guess you can already see what the lesson here is.)

I spent over thirty years of my life without knowing pain—except for heartaches after breakups and headaches after too much alcohol. Then, rather suddenly, my back started to hurt. It was subtle at first—I ignored the signs, didn’t stop to ask myself what else was going on in my life—and then, one morning after an argument with my boss at my marketing job, I got out of bed, coughed, and my back hurt so much I could barely move.

That moment was both a wake-up call (I quit my job) and the start of a long journey of recovery—learning to work with my back and truly listen to what my body needs. I was lucky to have a whole team supporting me: my yoga teacher Suzel Braun, my chiropractor Esther Fernández, and my physiotherapist Camila Velásquez. Thanks to them, my back improved, I gained strength and flexibility, and I found myself doing things in yoga I never imagined were possible.

This whole process took up most of the past year and taught me so much. Now, whenever a student comes to me with pain or injury, I can relate on a personal level. Together, we always find ways to adapt their practice and explore exercises to relax and strengthen the muscles around the affected area.

I’m not here to glorify pain—it sucks, let’s be honest. But pain has its lessons. It teaches us humility, grace, and gratitude.

And now I’m in Mysore, thinking I’ve learned all these lessons, thinking I’ve mastered them—and suddenly, every posture I have to adapt, every extra rest day I take, reminds me how much I’ve been attached to my physical practice. How much I’ve defined myself by it and the progress I’ve made.

My teacher Suzel always says that one of the most important things is to practice with detachment. Postures come and go. Some days are great, and others, even the simplest poses feel impossible. These moments confront us with our ego. They challenge us to love ourselves even more and remember that we are not our practice, not our accomplishments, not our bodies. We just are. And that’s enough.