inhabiting your body

It’s hard to live in your body.

It’s hard to live in your body if you’ve experienced trauma, are terrified of the power of your own thoughts, or exist in a society that normalizes numbing.

Substance abuse, video games, staying busy, working all the time, and hyper focusing on one activity are all really great ways to escape. Whether the activity is arguably a healthy life choice or not, you may still be using it to run away from something else.

Your body becomes a mode of transportation, moving your existence from one numbing activity to the next.

We start to lose touch with how things make us feel. We start to lose touch with our gut, our instincts. We start to lose touch with the physical natural world we navigate through.

We are all taught how to run away, but very few of us are shown examples of how to immerse ourselves into the experiences of our being.

We stop noticing how activities affect us, we stop practicing breathing, we reach for food that makes us feel like shit over and over, and we start to believe that our mental and emotional state is completely disconnected from our physical.

Living inside your body, inner thoughts and physical being, is something many of us have forgotten or something that we were never taught. So how do we do it?

Every day I have to choose to live inside my body, some days are easier than others. These are my practices to live, and be present with, my own internal experiences and maybe they can help guide yours too.

For me, the first step was actually feeling my emotions instead of running from them. The uncomfortable anxious thoughts, the less than desirable sadness, the complicated ways I love and accept love. I had to learn how to take a breath and sit with my feelings, thoughts, and emotions; feeling them in my body and letting them overcome me. I had to learn how to love them; understand that they came from my past and are rooted in a time when I needed them. I had to learn to not only feel them, but to also thank them for protecting me.

The journey of living in my body meant I had to also come to terms with the ways I had learned to protect my heart while also yearning for love. Recognizing that I disassociated from intimacy just enough to substitute the need for love over what I actually wanted. I had to face how I defined love and find ways to exist in a body that felt used and broken. I had to change my behaviors to always take care of my physical being; that meant taking care of my heart and noticing when my mind left my body and why.

I then delved into my psyche; turning inward to my thoughts. Amidst a global pandemic, for the fist time in my life, I had the privilege of time and supportive love to heal. I began to unravel my anxiety and depression and started to see all the ways my mental health weaved in and out of my life. I began to notice thought patterns and feelings. I started to feel. For the first time, I leaned into my existence with a gentle compassion to understand and love parts of me that had long been neglected.

I started to nurture my physical being. I started eating more intentionally, noticing what my body responded well to and what made me bloated and uncomfortable. I started to notice when I felt full, when I was dehydrated, when I wanted ice cream, and when I was craving green beans. I started to honor those cravings, as best as I could, without judgement.

Last, but not least, I shifted my perspective on exercise. Growing up I danced a lot and at first it was really frustrating that my body couldn’t do the things it once could. I would get upset and push myself, which ultimately made working out a chore and mad me more prone to injuries. Working out felt like something I HAD to do and something that was unpleasant. So I updated my mindset; I started to be gentle with my body. As much as I could, I exercised without judgement or the “shoulds”: the “should” of being able to do the easy classes, the “should” of keep going and never needing a break.

Releasing the “should” sentences and the judgement is hard, but exercising at home meant no one was watching and that helped me. I realized too that the only person I was hurting was me and that deep down I did want to exercise; it made me feel good. So I started again, this time approaching my workouts with a kindness and acceptance of my limitations.

I started doing the easiest classes and allowing myself the breaks and the supports for beginners. I started thanking myself for showing up and for owning my limits. I expanded my workouts to more accurately reflect what my body needed and took the classes that built on what my body could do on that day. Over time, I’ve been getting stronger and enjoying it more.

Working out isn’t a chore anymore, it’s something I can do when I feel called to exercise and at a level that challenges me just enough. Some days that means a little less sweat and other days it means a little more.

Living in your body isn’t easy.

Recognize your limits and love your body for where it is at right now. Find a gentleness and compassion for all the ways it has hurt and for all the times it was ignored.

It’s time to live again. It’s time to move through your feelings. It’s time to start paying attention and showing up for you.

It’s time to show yourself a little more love, a little more compassion, and a little more intention.