Yogi vs. Dentist - By Gretchen Fruchey RYT

Recently, I went to the dentist. Left with no excuses (and threatened with a fine), I could postpone my appointment no longer: I had a cavity and needed a drill to fix it. This encounter unexpectedly served as an odd metaphor for courage in my life. The short experience (that only felt like a lifetime) forced me to confront issues of control, ego, resolve, and fear—it tested many of the guidelines I use to live. Suffice it to say, not only was it uncomfortable, it was humbling. Most people would describe me as a strong person, a person with gumption and a backbone. I think of myself and as a spiritual soldier, armed with the bravery that accompanies detachment and deep breathing. So a little filling was no match for me. Right? 

Ah, that day…Ipod in hand (chuck full of meditations and soft, soothing playlists) I sit first for the cleaning, put my earphones in and begin focusing on my breath. I use the experience as a test of my ability to scan the body and release any areas of tension.

As the technician cleans, I breathe and try to focus and un-focus, re-focus and relax. Every few minutes I become aware of my shoulders rising up, my hands clenching or my jaw tightening. Eventually, I find a wave pattern of relaxation, starting at the top of my head, working my way down to my toes—and over and over again I keep relaxing. I’ve transported myself to a far away field of green grass and butterflies and sunshine. Before I know it, the cleaning is over! I couldn’t believe an hour flew by—my jaw didn’t have the usual dull pain it has after a cleaning. I rocked it! I was so yogi, it wasn’t even funny! 

It was now time for the filling. At this point I am feeling a little nervous, but confident in my abilities. After a little topical gel for numbing, the dentist comes in to administer the Novocain. I internally scoff at the humongous needle, feeling superhuman in my powers of detachment. I’ve conquered Discomfort, I can take you Dentist! He puts the needle in, starts to depress the syringe and….OH MY LORD THE PAIN! THE PAIN!! My body cringes, I whimper, my eyes tear and roll into my head! Panic sets in. My heart starts beating like a caged animal and I begin to sweat uncontrollably. What was I thinking!? This is horrible! This is going to be excruciating! And that was only the shot! (Apparently, he hit a nerve. “Bullseye.” He said.) So we wait for the numbing to begin. I turn up the volume on my meditation and breathe, lengthening my exhales to slow my heartbeat. I am calmed by how quickly I get my heart and breath under control. After about five minutes, we test my lips. They are not numb. A couple more minutes go by, I can still feel everything. I tell him, only half joking, “I repelled it. I used my yogi strength to dissolve the elephant-sized dose of Novocain you just gave me.” He gets another needle. Lets just say, after two large needles, that crazy tent thing (which gives me claustrophobia), and two drills (I still wasn’t numb—cringing and shivering in pain), I was beginning to doubt my abilities. Clearly I am a creature of earth, full of human weakness. 

When it was all over, I felt like I’d run a marathon—my armpits were wet, my hair was glued to the back of my neck and I’d teared mascara all over my face. While I did now have a nice, clean filling instead of a decaying tooth, I was annoyed by how frightening the experience had been. I failed to control my reaction, and I was disappointed in myself (then also angry with myself for feeling disappointed). But as I got further away from the terror of that day, I kept thinking about it in relation to life. I know the dentist is a hyperbolic version of trauma; there are many more serious tests for strength and bravery! But, like my appointment, we can avoid experiences we find uncomfortable or we can face them. Most times, we eventually have no choice—things have a way of knocking on our door no matter how much we try to avoid them. When we summon the courage to face what we fear, we can arrive prepared, knowing the philosophy, the practice, the breath. Sometimes we will succeed: we will float through that experience less scathed than we thought, maybe even indulge our ego and be proud of our strength. Sometimes, we will use everything we have, but still will find ourselves overwhelmed by what we fear, by this experience of earthly life. We’ll falter, lose our faith in ourselves, and feel utterly human and disappointed. With the aches and stings serving as reminders, we have the option of carrying that pain forward and allowing it to define all our future experiences. Or, connected to Spirit, Universe, God, family, our soul, we can acknowledge that courage is our superhero cape even when we are afraid. We can feel that fear, trepidation, and insecurity as we take charge and meet head-on that which does not serve us. To continue the metaphor, when we come home from the dentist we can take an Advil and then get back to our lives. I had to acknowledge that while I did fall victim to panic and fear that day, I made it out alive. Clearly, I will go to the dentist again and I can choose not to let this particular appointment describe all future visits. I can choose to let it be what it was: one rather unfortunate day in the life of my mouth. 

As with everything we face, we must take the experience at face value and learn from it what we can. Even if the information you receive doesn’t flatter the idea you have of yourself—use it. This small act takes a tremendous amount of courage itself. I could see that going into that day, I wanted to be bigger and stronger than the Dentist. I wanted to waltz in and out of that situation free of frazzle. It was more about my expectations than my will. (Well, also a bit about lack of Novocain). That is information I can use. I can apply it to future confrontations with other villains in my life—Anguish, Greed, Betrayal, Disappointment, Judgment—and allow it shape a better version of me. Flashing a bright white grin, I think to myself what my grandfather always said “It is what it is…now what are you gonna do about it?” Personally, I’m going to change Dentists. How about you? 

 

“Life only demands the strength you possess. Only one feat is possible—not to have run away.” Dag Hammarskjöld.

Gretchen Fruchey RYT
Certified Yoga Teacher  
yogafruchey@gmail.com  
www.gretchenfruchey.com