I have been writing “morning pages” everyday for the past three weeks. This act has been so loving, comforting, and illuminating. When I was young, I used to write furiously in my journal almost every day. It was mostly complaining and general angst. I didn’t glean any insights from it at the time, it was simply just a way of expressing myself and ‘dumping’ my experiences and my woes onto the page.
Looking back at it, I see that it was a not only a way to create a space to process my thoughts, but to also make room between myself and my negative thoughts. Once they were out of my head, I could gain some relief from the weight of them.
The other day, my stream-of-conscience styled, scribbled pages were a way to process some of the physical pain I was experiencing.
“I woke up around 9am. I was planning on writing my pages right away, but my head was throbbing and my body was in shambles. I had to listen & honour my body “where it was at” (I don’t do that very often), and probably spent close to an hour doing some gentle stretching (and BREATHING). My body signaled me to immediately go into child’s pose because it’s the most comfortable and soothing one. The name is so appropriate because it makes me feel very small and safe. It’s even more nurturing when I rock back and forth slightly with my hips and thighs. It’s like a gentle massage. When I breathe deeply into it, I can feel a deep release – my muscles soften and it feels like everything inside me is shifting and sinking through the floor. It creates space within me. Breathing room. Breathing into the pain and discomfort can create distance from it. Focusing on the breath (and the rise and fall of the body) brings some temporary ease and flexibility to some otherwise stiff joints. The space from the pain also brings some sense of clarity to the mind.”
Being in pain can be very exhausting and all consuming. Giving yourself temporary respite from it, no matter how small, can bring some peace. It can bring some energy. It can re-open the creative channels.
If I’m having a particularly achy day, I can’t focus on my writing until I create a bit of space from the discomfort.
Stretching, meditating, hot showers, simply laying on the floor in silence.
Breathing with my entire body (filling every cell and every little nook within me)
Nothing takes the pain away, but it provides a sense of centering and grounding. It brings me home to my body in a way that is more nurturing and accepting, rather than angry and resistant.
The mind and body are so connected. True healing takes gentleness.
Of course there’s a place for frustration, and screaming, and thrashing limbs around like an angry child (!) Those feelings are so real, and so valid. They NEED to be expressed.
THEY NEED TO BE LET OUT!
I cry a lot more these days. Some days I feel completely helpless and weak. Some days I want to rip my head off or pound my hips with my fists. Some days I still feel guilty for complaining when there are many others in far more pain than myself – that maybe I am ‘overreacting’. Some days I just want my body to feel ‘normal’ again.
BUT WHAT IS ‘NORMAL’ ANYWAY?
WHO REALLY GETS THE RIGHT TO DEFINE IT?
WE ARE ALL UNIQUE
WE ALL HAVE DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVES AND EXPERIENCES.
Comparing ourselves to others is so toxic. I know that I have poisoned myself with that.
We are beautiful. We all have strength. We all have so much to share with each other. With the world.
What are your pains?
What are your frustrations?
What are your vulnerabilities?
What are your strengths?
What can you teach others?
What are your stories?
I want to share my sense of curiosity and wonder.
I want to share the lens through which I view my world.
I want to encourage people to tap into their creative ‘spark’, to discover (or recover) their authentic voice. To share their stories from a place of both vulnerability and strength.
I want to create community and connect minds and hearts.
This is a call to action.
Who’s with me?