On Working Toward Integration

You know, that Zen-like, state of total-bliss-thing that everyone else is always talking about, but you're pretty sure you can never achieve...

I went to a yoga class the other day and after the lights were dimmed and some soft piano music began to play, my eyes began to tear up. Yes I’ve been known to get emotional during yoga before, but it’s usually at the end of class, or at least halfway through, so I was a little surprised. But as I crouched on all fours taking some slow deep breaths, I realized that I was indeed sad. It had been a hard few months personally, and my body seemed to want to remind me that even when I’m not actively thinking about sad or hard things, it still feels them.

Maybe it’s weird to talk about my body as if it were a separate thing from my self, but that’s been my lived experience for most of my life. For as long as I can remember I’ve tended to live in my head more than my body and even though I’m aware of it now and try to approach life in more integrated ways, it’s still my default setting. Which is why I wasn’t aware of my sadness that day, until I stilled and quieted both my mind and body. Then I let myself cry for a few minutes, and although I didn’t like how it felt to know the women next to me might see me, I tried not to hide it.

Later that afternoon I was at the park with a friend who has two small children and when they ran off to play she reminded them to listen to their bodies. It made me smile as I remembered saying the same thing to my kids when they were little, although I mostly said it in the context of how much they ate and whether or not they needed to go potty. But I still think it’s good advice.

Nope, I can’t really hold the whole world in my hands.

I’ve been rewatching The Good Place (third time through, but why should that matter?) on and off since June and I’m nearing the end of it now. There was an episode recently where two characters decide to force good behavior on one of the “bad” characters, trusting that some good intentions would show up eventually, after he got used to behaving better. When I first watched this show nine years ago I might’ve balked at that idea, but now it makes total sense to me.

The Christianity I was exposed to when I was growing up seemed to emphasize belief above all else. To the point that we valued “Believer’s baptism” as the only valid kind of baptism. We also spent a lot of time quibbling over the various things one ought to believe in, like predestination, a literal seven day creation, and pre-millennial rapture. By contrast we spent less time talking about how to behave with our bodies, unless we were discussing all the things we were not allowed to do, like dance, smoke, drink, get tattoos, or have pre-marital sex.

In that environment, and with my intellectual bent, I became wary of my body. It felt safer to live in my mind and daydream, rather than risk feeling things with my body that might send me to hell. It wasn’t until after I got married and had a kid that I began to notice how disconnected and disgusted I often felt toward my physical body, and that it probably wasn’t very healthy to live that way, but it wasn’t something I thought to do anything about until my forties. That’s when I began having physical symptoms that interfered with everyday life, and I realized that connecting these seemingly disparate parts of life needed to become a priority.

To that end I’ve read a few books, written some weird poems, and done lots of thinking, but lately I’ve been wondering if it’s not more important to actively do some things that might help me to become friends with my body—whether I feel like me and my body are worth it or not. I’m not sure what that looks like beyond going to yoga and trying to eat and sleep well, but one idea I’ve had is to share more of my writing, here, on a regular basis.

(And on the heels of that idea I feel shame because I think maybe it’s a stupid idea, or that I’m just attempting to gain more followers and boost my own ego. But for now I’m going to choose to ignore the shame and try to finish this post that I literally started seven weeks ago.)

I’m still working on what that’s going to look like, but the main reason I’m doing it is because I need structure and accountability. Those are just a couple of the things I experienced by living in Sewanee last summer, where for six weeks I was just a student and a writer, and it was life giving. And life is what I need during the grey days of January, so I can remember my true identity, which is much more real than the sad refrain I’ve been listening to since September—even if it doesn’t feel true. Like I said, take embodied action first, and hope good feelings will follow.

I hope this makes sense, but if it doesn’t here’s a song and a few verses I’ll be meditating on til my next post. Maybe they’ll be good for you, too.

For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart. ~ Heb. 4:12

And so, we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them. ~ 1 John 4:16

And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. ~ Ephesians 3:18

Also, if you’re looking to start a daily practice that might provide some relief for your own overactive mind, I’ve enjoyed using this app lately: The Daily Liturgy Podcast. I’ve also found that it’s good to find a darker, quieter space and put in my earbuds when I can.

Hope to see you back here again in a couple of weeks. Thanks for reading, friends!