navigating the unexpected
As our emotional landscape tries to settle, internally we may feel like we're in freefall. We're dropping, dropping, dropping, and as we reach for the world that once felt "under control" its construction reveals itself as paper thin. There's nothing to hold on to.
From this perilous place, we vacillate between a desire to recreate or "get back" what's been lost and total collapse. In our body a hot buzz of anxiety grips our throat and belly while at the same time we may feel heavy, dull, and uninspired.
finding wisdom in what aches
My knee is tired. This simple truth lands in my chest like the thud of the old-school yellow pages on a hard desk. There's a heaviness here I've been dutifully avoiding. My knee is tired. It's tired of running, tired of pushing, tired of jumping, tired twisting and bending, tired of extending beyond itself to get just ... a little ... further.
And when I hear my knee, when I can really let these words in, I get it. Yeah knee, I'm fucking tired too.
why i care
I believe your body holds wisdom that is essential for creating the world we all deserve to live in – you know, where no one must hustle or compete to meet their basic needs, where all bodies are deemed valuable and every being has ample space for rest and ease. My intention is not that this sounds like a lot of pressure, but I do get it if holding such power makes you feel a little anxious.
braving the spiral
For several weeks now an injury has kept me from moving my body in the ways I like to move. I'm not able to sweat, or jump or engage in any kind of vigorous activity.
I'm noticing my body is softer -- my breasts more full, my belly more round -- and I'm uncomfortable that this has made me uncomfortable.