Stay
I have spent most of my life in a state of body hatred so strong that I made myself vomit, I punished myself by not tending injuries, I ate too much, I starved too often, and I dressed my body like I was covering a crime.
But shit keeps happening. And people I love keep dying. And I'm tired (so very tired) of wasting all that energy.
I wrote last year about the surprise of discovering my body is my friend (Hello, Gorgeous!). Grief had led to sickness, sickness led to acupuncture, and acupuncture led me to my body. Here it had been doing so much for me all those years. Here it had been shouting for help, and I just couldn't hear. Once I connected with my body, all I wanted to do was to connect other people to the healing powers of their own bodies. And so I started massage school and Kung Fu training.
It's been a challenging, life-altering six months. As my instructor said on day one, “You are putting a giant lever in your life and changing it. It will take time to adapt and sometimes be difficult. But it's an adventure.”
When you go from nearly six months of illness to six months of constant movement, it's exhausting. And a little painful. And frustrating. I'm not in the shape I was, and lugging around an extra forty pounds is like lifting weights all the time. It's embarrassing. In massage school, every member of your class sees you naked and touches your whole body. In Kung Fu you train in front of mirrors under the watchful gaze of a master who knows pain and knows endurance and knows you're capable of more than you're doing. It's been an intense baptism by fire in body acceptance, understanding and testing. And I've floundered and flopped and made tortoise-like progression. But I'm doing it. Day in and day out, I'm doing it. Sure, there have been tears. The first time I was on the table as the demo client in front of the whole class I completely lost it. My fat thighs and dimpled butt were on display. There was no hiding. There was no making myself smaller. But no one cared. Well, they did care - about me. Massage school is a safe place to fall apart. They know it happens. People have lifetimes in their bodies, and trauma has no clock.
Kung Fu has been the other side of the spectrum. Training with only men in a discipline that originated with men in a culture far different from my own resuts in a different kind of nakedness. My weakness and emotional instability are exposed. My need to be approved of and my impatience for perfection are all on display. Kung Fu is a stripping down, of the storyline, of the drama. It's knowing who you are, where you are and starting there. Kung Fu means Hard Work. There's no magic. There is only training. Sure, for some it comes faster. As Suphu (Master) says, “Some trees grow faster. This is not a race.”
In Kung Fu tears have come unexpectedly, like rain showers from my eyes. Some movement, some punch, crushes some cellular memory and emotion comes flowing out of me. Getting beaten up is at once the most heartbreaking and most liberating experience you can feel. Facing your own limitations burns and your get smoke in your eyes.
But the message has been the same, I am my own best healer. My body is there when I need it. My body is strong. My body is capable. And my body is me. I am strong. I am capable. I am a healer. And I am there for me and always have been. I didn't just survive my life, I have come to thrive. I built a home and a family when I had no model for what that looked like. I take care of myself when all I knew was self flagellation and sacrifice for others. It's taken a long time to get here, and I have miles to go before I sleep, but I have done it.
Here's what I'm learning, there is no shame in being where you are. We don't have to attach a storyline. We can get up in front of the mirrors and practice our weapons with our flabby arms and jiggly thighs. It is there. But it doesn't matter. I am a slow learner. But there doesn't have to be pain in that. It just is. But the same promise holds for me as it does for my kids who are fit and learn quickly, if you practice, you will improve. And so I have. And every day, when I look in that mirror, I have to drop the drama, drop the voices of shame, drop the fear of rejection, and just do the kicks. Every massage is a meditation on the body in front of me. Every massage is another chance to practice dismissing the voice shouting, “Imposter!”
I'm only six months into this new life, but already I can feel myself growing stronger. I can see myself learning the forms, wielding a staff with force. I can hear people tell me that I'm helping their bodies heal. Every day I get caught up and have to face the voices of the demons again. Every day I falter. But every day I stay just a little bit longer and hold truth a little bit more confidently. Every day I am a warrior.
“So even if the hot loneliness is there, and for 1.6 seconds we sit with that restlessness when yesterday we couldn't sit for even one, that's the journey of the warrior.”
Pema Chödrön
For information on receiving acupuncture from an amazing practitioner, please check out Mary Morrison's website, Your Access Acupuncture, and give her a call.
For information about becoming a massage therapist, please check out Potomac Massage Therapy Institute and book some time in their student or graduate clinic. Or volunteer for a session with me.
