“…body and mind are only separable at autopsy…”
– from When the Body Says No by Dr. Gabor Mate
I remember when I recognized the full extent of my mind/body disconnect.
It was probably eight or nine years ago. It was a sunny day in the fall. We were in the Yoga by the Sea studio in Roberts Creek. Our instructor, Marney, was waiting on her mat at the front of the room. The floor was shining, a pale blonde bamboo. I made sure my feet were soaking up the full golden light that streamed in through the second-story windows. We settled and got quiet.
“Let’s start by moving into downward dog and then I want you to move your body in any way that feels natural.”
WTH? I hadn’t been going to yoga long, but one thing was certain, I always made sure I had a good vantage point so I could follow Marney’s lead and get the posture right.
‘Right’ being the very operative word. Correct. Proper. I wanted an A+. She was the instructor. Instruct me.
Let it be said that I have not arrived at the age of 52 with a need to blame my parents for all my myriad of issues. I understand they were doing the best they could with what they knew. Aren’t we all?
That being said, there is something about being raised Mennonite and fundamentalist Christian that is likely to result in the belief that the body is something to be dragged around, something that one should feel vaguely guilty and ashamed for actually having…
It is certainly not made for dancing or any other frivolous movements or moving in any way that feels natural. Was she quite out of her mind?
The body is here to work and do the right things so it can be shed like ill-fitting clothes; ugly, but serviceable clothes, that one casts off at Death, so one can float around as befits our Heavenly reward for doing the aforementioned work.
I didn’t know it at the time, but Marney had just planted the first seed of awareness. I realized that my awkwardness at her suggestion was a rather bizarre response. I looked at my thinking, and said, well that’s pretty interesting Colleen. Perhaps that’s quite enough of that.
I am learning – in tiny increments – to honour my body and listen to it. This is a much bigger battle than the previous short little sentence suggests.
My default hardwiring tends toward denial of my body and anything that might need attention. As a result, my body ramps up the noise and tends to scream a little louder. It wants some care and kindness. Well. Who knew?
I’ve decided, in my ripe old age of slow awakening, that it might be prudent to be nice to my body before it yells. It’s a thought.
It’s a thought I’m expanding on daily. My body/mind seems grateful. Perhaps it’s Marney’s other words that really help the most.
I haven’t been back to the yoga studio for awhile but her words are often in my head.
“Breathe…”
“Notice,” says Marney from her position next to the small Buddha in that quiet sanctuary.
“Stay right here.”
“Accept.”
“Allow.”