Saturday was a hard day,
physically. I didn’t want to get out of bed, and was feeling bummed out about
that, too.
I went to class
and I noticed something strange – something that I don’t really notice when I
am doing my home practice – which I suppose is because at home I am targeting
specific things and points on the body…
I noticed I
could feel everywhere I had ever injured – and so for parts of the practice I
felt like I was reminiscing all the pains of my life…
I hurt my shoulder kayaking in
the ocean about a decade ago.
It was a clear day, but the
wind seemed to pick up out of nowhere. We were completely harbored, but it was
a sudden fight with nature, and I remember thinking again about the power of
the sea. For a while I couldn’t lift groceries. It took years to heal.
I had surgery in January – and
both the inside and outside of that throbbed – in that low quiet way – the
caverns and the incisions… I don’t think about the pain of the decision to have
that surgery anymore. The complication of the cutting open…
I fractured my foot in high
school. I sprained my big toe. My hip has been killing me. All these ghosts of
missteps visiting their old, familiar haunts…
I said to my friend how strange
it was. I thought these things were healed. I thought they were gone forever.
She said, but it makes sense, doesn’t it…
I remember my father explaining
to me about grief that way. The way that we can feel a current pain and it can
echo through our psyches to all that came before of loss.
Luckily, love is like that too.
I did a crazy thing in my life
and fell back in love with my first love a few years ago – in a way, all the
pieces then connect… child to grown up and it the continuity of who we are is
really rather astounding.
There is a story a class lesson
on bullying circulating facebook this week –
a piece of paper is crumpled –
then smoothed. Of course it can never be made new again.
We gain character through the
creases. Personality, wisdom.
1 comment:
scars are often stronger than fresh/new/unbroken tissue...even if they are not as elegant or carefree...they protect us in their own way.
and i've found in my practice that confronting scars, caressing and yielding through the discomfort, pushing into release, changes even the eldest of scars...in some way they are a tonic, a gift from the body, if we are wise enough to enter the space where they were created and honor the lessons...
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