Thank you, Body: An epiphany on self-kindness

Have you ever taken notice of the words you use about yourself, toward yourself, especially in moments when your body, mind, or emotions are facing challenge?

There is a world of work around this subject, I know. I am not asking a new question. I, myself have shaken hands with my demons in counseling and coaching. I meditate, read, often try affirmations on for size in place of my own less-than-kind self-talk.

It hasn’t really worked. And I know this only because this weekend, the right words actually arrived.

The story:

I was face-down on a warm, cushioned table, my head cradled in one of those face-toilet contraptions that allow you to remain in this position comfortably for long periods of time. By my count, there were roughly 20 acupuncture needles in my upper back muscles doing the work of stimulating blood flow to a part of me that, several years ago, began to wave a white flag of surrender.

I have not been happy with or about my body for a while now. As a 57 year-old female with 40 years of desk work and no love for the gym, I’ve been watching and feeling my vessel change, expand, soften, slow down, for years.  The metabolism that could burn a restaurant burger, the heaping pile of pasta and the dessert in one sitting, now balks at any one of those in one day. The once-narrow hips that fit best in men’s Levi’s 501’s are now the things that catch me off guard whenever I happen to glance into a full-length mirror. (And please don’t get me started on the whole menopause thing…the impatience, the hot flashes, the insomnia, the absolute need for something sweet…)

Add to this mix the muscle loss in my back and neck, this slow but significant retreat of the gorgeous mass that holds me upright, that keeps my head and frame aligned and my gait steady, and you know what? Forget “not been happy.” I’ve been miserable.

Physical therapy has been the answer. I started two years ago, making good on my end of the sweaty bargain that is hypertrophy. On the days when my incredibly patient, dedicated, and unrelenting therapist is not next to me, coaxing another rep out of my exhausted body, I am at the gym, rowing and pulling and cursing and silently begging my rhomboids to give me a fucking call.

I’ve tried to talk myself into a positive mindset but my actual internal truth is brutal. I often say it out loud.

To my PT:

It’s taking SO long.

I can’t.

I’m going to vomit.

To my mirror:

Oy, that looks horrific.

Jesus Christ.

When, God?

I see this, my aging, injured body, as thing that has betrayed me.

But then a new addition to the team of unicorns at my acupuncturist’s clinic walks in and says just the thing.

As she gently removes needles, she asks me how I feel.

“I’m ok. Hoping the needles activate those muscles. I thought they had atrophied because of years of computer work, but I found out a few months ago it was because of radiation therapy 30 years ago.”

“Oh no,” she almost whispers.

I do not like or want to talk about what happened over 30 years ago. I feel like I’m invoking the devil when I mention “the big C.” But I’m soft and open.

“Yeah,” I add, “30 plus years, I was perfectly fine. And then I wasn’t.”

And then, magic arrives.

She places her hand on my shoulder and says, “Your body has sustained you all this time. Thank you, Sue’s Body, for working so hard.”

I am…struck. Silenced. It takes a moment for me to fully absorb this, but I know almost instantly that something enormous has shifted.

Never once have I thought of my body in exactly this way, as something that’s constantly working for me, with me, to sustain me, 24/7. Never once have I acknowledged my body’s miraculous ability to keep me alive, to heal and recover from what I throw at it, what life throws at it, and from what I don’t do for it.

I’m a woman. Which means that my connection to my body is preprogrammed. In health, my menstrual cycles kept me aware my sacred flesh. In illness and injury, I’ve attended to its needs. But admittedly, I’ve felt alone and impatient in those tougher times, as if all the heavy lifting, literally and figuratively, has all been me. An act of willpower. And lately, I’ve looked at my body as a nutritionist might look at a bag of Wonder Bread.

But today, things are different. I’m not just throwing words at my mirror that I hope will stick. The gratitude is real. The words are infinitely kinder. I am a veritable standing ovation in honor of my body, even as the work ahead of me remains.  

I wish you that standing ovation, kids. But while you arrive at your own party, a toast to your body, mind and heart, and to all the endless work they’re doing to heal you and sustain you.

Happy Monday, Kids.

Dedicated to Dr. Soo Kim, Na-Lee, Caryn and Michelle at Healing from Within Acupuncture, and Voltaire Bermudo at Voltaire Bermudo Consulting and Physical Therapy.