I don’t think most of us realize how magical our bodies really are. They act as indicators of truth, detectors of intentions. We live in a society that teaches us to be so hard on our bodies, tells us that they’re never good enough, and so we never give them the respect or attention they deserve. Get to know your body, listen in, I’m sure it’s been trying to tell you something.
Goosebumps
My biggest challenge with healing has been knowing when to trust myself when to believe that something is for me.
I would ask people. What irony is that, asking someone else how to trust myself? Of course, they never had an answer.
In fact, if you’re sitting there asking yourself the same, my answer might not even work for you so don’t put too much weight on it as truth, it’s only mine. k
Goose.
I go to the park when I need to clear my head, the game reserve more specifically, and I watch the geese for the longest out of any of the animals – they’re aggressive, me too.
In all of that time I had spent watching geese, I’ve never seen one be silly but I still find myself calling people it, silly goose. I can’t help but wonder if it’s more about their disproportionate reactions, inability to keep their cool, that makes them seem silly. I’ve laughed at people like that, myself when I was.
Duck, duck, when I say goose you run – I hated it. Maybe just because of the running, not only because not everything is a race but because I started running when I didn’t need to. The problem was I was never fast enough to catch up so I stopped chasing things and usually was just trying to put enough distance between myself and whatever I was trying to get away from.
Bumps.
It wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume that one of the things I disliked about running was my lack of coordination and my tendency to fall.
Rarely wouldn’t I feel like I’ve covered enough ground, put enough distance down, before I was falling again and it was usually in love so it would stop me in my tracks.
My body is often covered in bruises. I spent so long not allowing myself to take up space that I was often trying to squeeze myself into places I didn’t fit and getting banged up on the way.
Sometimes I still get scared when I’m alone in the dark. Is there anyone out there that doesn’t have some kind of reaction, if even for a moment, when they hear a bump in the night? I’ve gotten so much better at bringing myself back to calm faster and faster each time.
Goosebumps.
It took a long time for me to find a balance between what words to let bounce off of me and which ones to hold on to. I often let the wrong ones in and they’d scratch and tear, destroy me from the inside out. By the time I could see damage showing at the surface a war had already been waged inside of me, drowning out my light.
When something is for me, my soul, my surface shows it right away. Tiny bumps dance across my skin, tiny blonde hairs stand at attention, glistening in the light rather than dimming it.
It may happen at the most emotional part of a speech when the rest of the room is silent but I’m huffing and puffing to catch my breath.
Sometimes it happens when I meet someone new and they share their story with me, as I watch our stories bleed their colors into the same picture.
“I can see your goosebumps from here” has to be my favorite line I’m fed when I’m trying to deny that whatever he just did really got me going, like so fast.
Now I know that my trust, my trust in myself is really just letting go as soon as I get a grasp. What is for me will come back and put on a show, down my arms, up my leg.
What I shouldn’t hold on to, what would tear me apart from the inside out will never get a chance if I release everything, without doubt.
I promise no matter how dark things seem to get, stay patient.
Goosebumps, always come back.
Much love, until next time.
Madeline May I... 