I wake up and already dread being here.
…in this skin.
Body aversion has risen to the surface, yet again.
It has brought soar muscles, stiff bones and rigidity all over.
Old patterning keeps me lodged in a newly adorned jail cell.
How did I get here and why am I STILL struggling with this?
I’m pissed at the uncomfortable familiarity but there’s no time for fuming, I must get up and face the day.
Nothing I put on feels good.
Jeans dig into a belly that denies a full breath.
Yoga pants, too frumpy for my mood.
I settle on my Eileen Fisher black kaftan as it allows a sense of flow that I can’t otherwise access.
The face value of the mirror sucks me in almost hypnotically.
I am in a TRANCE of the physical and I want to scream into its compactness.
A voice whispers ‘go outside, Kate’…
I need to see the energy that lines the sky as proof that there’s more than the skin and bones I’m fixating upon.
Without a jacket I head outdoors.
Spring has arrived.
Ah yes, spring…
Instantaneously, I understand my dip into body aversion.
Today’s dread is the result of deep trauma that recycles in my system this time of year.
Historically, spring has meant less clothing, more visibility, and a faster pace – all extremely distressing to the highly sensitive emotional eater.
I tearfully ask for help healing this buried trauma and it arrives in the form of a phone call from my friend Bree, later that afternoon.
She says, ‘Kate, I get the feeling you need to move, like MOVE!’
And so I lace up my sneakers and I start walking.
The fuming that I disregarded earlier in the day wants to be felt now.
It BOILS below the surface.
Unable to be with it in a contained manner, I let go of Koda’s leash and wildly reel in place thrashing all of my extremities.
SHIT, this is massive.
It feels like an exorcism of sorts.
I stop flailing as to not appear totally crazy to the passing FedEx truck and run instead.
I run and I run and I run.
My body aches as my feet pound the road.
Gasping for air, I cycle between crying, sprinting and screaming.
I stop when I can’t go any further.
The soar muscles,
The shallow breathe,
It’s moved through me.
Just like that.
A powerful moment, indeed.
Proof that the body and the mind are conspicuously connected.
Restriction in the body (via trauma or otherwise) equates to restriction in the mind and vice versa.
As I walk up our deck stairs into our house, it becomes clear I have stumbled upon a tool that will allow me to feel even more.
That tool is my body.
Grateful, so very grateful.
Alright life….what’s next?
The power to handle it has arrived within me.