I was in the 4th grade the first time I made myself throw up in the girls’ bathroom at my Elementary School. It started as a social experiment with two of my other classmates who jokingly called themselves fat. I remember leaving that bathroom knowing I had discovered something I hadn’t had before- an escape from my physical body.
This discovery of disconnection from my body slowly spiraled out of control as I layered on painful experiences and beliefs about myself. It took years of searching, practicing, and learning before I was able to put an end to purging away my pain- which never really worked anyway.
I am better now at sitting with discomfort. Still, there are times I find myself wishing to crawl out of this skin of mine to release myself from the heaviness of certain human emotions. At times, I feel a deep desire to be free from the weight of this body. Like during those moments when heavy waves of anxiety wash over me for no apparent reason. Or when I feel weighed down by societal pressures to squeeze into an unattainable mold of what it means to be a woman.
I have chosen to sit with the question of what my life would be like if I no longer believed my body was a burden. How would I live and treat myself differently?
In my quest to answer these questions, I remembered how various spiritual traditions teach that the soul shares a profound bond with the physical body and may feel a sense of longing or loss when the two separate. This remembrance brought forth another question. What would I miss about my body?
For starters, I would miss the warmth of my furry dog, full of mischief and love, curled against my body in bed while my husband sleeps beside me; The sensation of goosebumps shooting up my arms when I hear music that makes me feel alive; The chatters and shakes my body makes as it leaves the comfort of a wood-burning stove to face the rawness of sub-zero temperatures.
I would miss those hair-raising emotions and mysterious chills that prove our ability to connect with another human’s pain; The relief my body intuitively provides me with deep exhales and moments of pause. I would miss belly laughs, and pee your pants a little laughs, and crying laughs, and snorts; The taste of joyous tears and even tears of grief that eventually give way to hope; The signals of sight, smell, taste, touch, and sound that work alongside me to explore, understand, and expand my perception. I would miss this whole-body experience of life moving through me.
I would miss how it feels to move this body that holds every memory, intention, belief, and dream I have ever had. How it feels to run, jump, twist, squat, skip, bend, and reach for love, truth, and safety. I would miss how it carries me up mountains and across the world to have my breath taken away, only to return seconds later, filling me with new life. I would miss the home of a body that selflessly sustains a beating heart, breathing lungs, and a nervous system that feels the weight of it all. I would miss this weight.
I would even miss the weight of heavier emotions like anger, anxiety, and shame that add to my human experience. I would miss the role my body plays in helping me maneuver through them when I allow it to; How my body seamlessly knows how to integrate and transform these uncomfortable emotions into the magic of joy, faith, and love- which always awaits on the other side.
When I explore what it means to have a body, I am learning there is no other refuge I want more than this very body. It is here that I have felt love rush through every limb while my belly expanded and served as a punching bag for the new life it carried- the life my body supported as best it could as it safely brought our only son into the world. It was my brave, strong, and intelligent body that made his life possible. What a gift.
So thank you, body. The trees that sway with the wind, stars that shoot across the sky, and waves that crash into the shore will never know the experience of having you. They may watch in amusement and wonder as we attempt to figure out the secret to using our bodies wisely during our time here. Perhaps our bodies know how to be best used if only we’d stop and listen to their needs when they release a deep exhale, rather than reactively run away from them.
I want to apologize for running and for the fleeting, unrealistic expectations that I have placed upon this body; How I have assigned it with unattainable, falsely desirable attributes to strive for so it can be admired and felt worthy- which never really worked anyway.
Somehow, somewhere, we have lost our way and forgotten the unconditional worth of our bodies. Our bodies may look out in wonder as we mistakenly spend much of our time attempting to manipulate them to mirror these imagined ideal bodies by filling them with injectibles and anti-skin sagging solutions. Our bodies may be confused about how we continuously reach outside to grab a hold of the next shiny object with the intent to feel better- when our bodies know we only have to listen for the simplistic things they desire. Like rest, love, a big glass of water, deep breaths, movement, compassion, and moments of stillness.
I am learning to be a better listener, and that true freedom comes not from leaving my skin but from celebrating every part of the experience my body offers. I vow to remind myself of how miraculous it is to have this body so I can remember how I wish to treat it while we remain together during this life; To stop adding to the pain it carries from society’s disillusionment of what it means to have a body; To pause longer before responding and listen to its wishes after deep exhales; To turn inward into my body and ask for its guidance; To develop more trust that its divine intelligence is all I need to take with me on this earth-bond journey; To embrace all parts of my uniquely flawed and beautiful body rather than attempt to escape from it; To recognize my worth in this changing body is always 100%.
You see, there are many things I would miss about this body. Most of all, I would miss the gift of having a body to walk with and return to as I shape my life however I choose. And I am proud of the life I have shaped in this body. What a gift.