your body is your guru

Yesterday, I sat on the ground and ate my lunch.

By ground, I specifically mean a patch of green grass on a random street corner not far from the grocery store where I procured my meal. It was there, moments earlier, amid the mountains of citrus that I felt myself squeezed — figuratively. Not a pleasant hug kind of a squeeze but an anxious saran-wrapping across my chest that feels both safe and intolerable.

It was a beautiful no-jacket-needed, everything-in-bloom kind of afternoon. Passing the Princess Cruise ship on my commute to the East Bay, I thought I was handling it all quite well. With the increasing cases of coronavirus, the disappointment of Tuesday’s election results, the cancellation of the many social gatherings I’ve come to rely on, I was being practical. I haven’t been glued to the news, I’m washing my hands and making time to check in with friends. My pandemic supplies are more-or-less stocked. There in the grocery store though, another reality became clear. While my head was managing, my body was freaking out.

I know this saran-wrap feeling in my chest well. It’s fear. It’s anxiety. It’s uncertainty. Doom is a breath away.

Though my mind had it “under control,” my body reminded me of the truth. I’m afraid. Given what we’re facing societally, I think this is a natural response. How your body freaks out may be similar to mine or it may feel quite differently. Fear can show up as tightness in the chest, heat in the throat, headache and it can feel like numbness and an inability to sense below the neck.

Just as the body indicates what is true, it leads us to what it needs. For me, in that moment it was to get out of that store and find a patch of grass.

Ground is the place to go when overwhelmed with thoughts and fears. It can hold our confusion with unwavering presence. We can source the earth’s formidable strength to connect with how these qualities live inside of us. In her timeless gaze, we open to the present; we slow down.

Sitting on that random patch of grass, I watched a man in a cowboy hat drive a tractor back and forth with loads of dirt. I listened to a group of tweens excitedly chatting on the way home from school. I felt the cold wet earth slowly soak through my pants. The saran-wrapping of my chest did not go away, but it was present alongside the heft of my booty and the strength of my legs.