Now, More Than Ever

After such a long time away, I was so excited to reconnect with you last week.

And then, after the events of last week’s Supreme Court decisions, I struggled with what to write to you this week.

My desire is to connect with you in a way that’s uplifting and that brings hope. And at the same time, not bypassing or avoiding what’s going on in the world around us.

My heart is heavy: I’m sad. I’m mad. I’m disappointed. I’m scared.

For so many years, my chosen way of processing life has been to sit down with my journal (you may remember that last week I wrote about burning some of them) . . . sometimes, for hours at a time. But over the past six months, as I’ve reached a much deeper layer in my own inner work, I’ve discovered that I don’t really want to sit for long periods of time.

My body has felt restless and has wanted to move.

I spend an incredible amount of time in my head thinking, planning, learning, and taking in way more information than I have time to process.

Can you relate?

And while this isn’t necessarily bad, I find that too much of it leads to a cluttered mental landscape: ruminating, stressing out and worrying which leads to (or adds to) anxiety.

Research shows that our bodies hold onto everything we’re experiencing in our physical, emotional, and mental terrains. * When we encounter stress of some sort, our bodies hold the tension which, left unattended, can lead to aches and pains and potentially, to other ailments.

I have both a family and a personal history with depression and the thought of experiencing it again is daunting.

So, last week, I began an embodiment practice.

In short, an embodiment practice is a way of integrating our minds and bodies.

It’s a way of being fully present in your body and experiencing the here and now while moving energy that has become congested or stuck in our bodies.

What does it look like?

To begin with, I made it up myself.

Instead of spending hours researching what others say I need, I trusted myself to know what I need.

I made a playlist on Spotify with songs that make me want to dance.

I made another playlist on Spotify with songs that I can dance to that also make me want to cry.

I spend a few minutes checking in with my psyche:

• How do I feel in my physical space and body?
• How is my physical energy?
• How do I feel emotionally?
• How do I feel mentally?
• How do I feel spiritually? 

And then I turn on the music and dance.

For 30 minutes.

Unless I feel like dancing for longer.

I check back in with my psyche and end with gratitude for whatever came up for me.

It’s only been a week, but what a week it’s been.

In ALL the ways!

I know I’m not alone in feeling so many things this last week. We’ve reached the point where every single thing we encounter holds an enormous amount of weight. Regardless of where you stand on any of the issues at hand, every single thing is important. And some days, it feels like there’s just too damn much.

But we’re all being called to show up.

How you show up is your choice, but the important thing is not being complacent.

We are all connected to each other. When one of us hurts, all of us hurt, whether we’re aware of it or not.

And so many of us are hurting.

I was in the marching band for a couple years in high school. My band director used to tell us “we’re only as strong as our weakest member.” He only ever said that when we needed more practice.

I like to think of it in terms of self-care, though.

I invite you to take exquisite care of yourself: dance, walk, run, meditate, take a nap, journal, collage, cook. Do whatever you need to do to take exquisite care of yourself so that you can show up in this world the way you want and need to show up.

Because we need each other now more than ever.

* If you’re interested in reading more about this, three good books are:

The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma,by Bessel van der Kolk, MD

My Grandmother’s Hands: Racialized Trauma and the Pathway to Mending Our Hearts and Bodies, by LICSW Resmaa Menakem, MSW

Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma, by Peter A. Levine and Ann Frederick