Many people could probably relate to me when I say that I used to move a lot more and a lot differently in the past. Before graduate school I danced up to 7 days a week at a studio that I loved. For me it was about creative expression and expressing my soul through movement. I also benefitted greatly by having more energy and flexibility. Well, life took a major turn and I contended with two very stressful and important parts of my life to date. I entered graduate school, also known as: the most stressful educational experience you will endure (that you signed up for)! And if that weren't enough, while I was in my program, my mom was diagnosed with stage four cancer and died a year later.
Nothing could ever prepare me for the blow that did to my soul.
Nothing could ever prepare me for how my grief became trapped in my body and began to leech itself in the way I saw myself and in a very tangible way, how I moved. Because, I didn't. For a long time, I couldn't bear to return to my joy of movement, much less dance (for me, the most joyful). I felt so far away from the Me that I knew. I didn't feel joy, I felt sadness, pain and anger for a new life experience I wasn't ready to have and didn't want to have. My pain turned inward and I started hating my body for betraying me and my heart for not wanting to repair itself by returning to movement.
When my mom was sick, I experimented with swimming: the gentle embrace of the water felt right to me. After she died, I started walking weekly with one of my best friends who also lost her dad. The combination of walking and talking about life in a beautiful setting, just felt right.
In the 18 months since my mom died, I have struggled with grief and with finding movement that felt good in my body. As a society we don't talk about how profound the grief process is. I never thought of myself as someone who would stop dancing, or hold the belief I couldn't do something for joy alone because my life was overcome with sadness. But its a lesson for me that eventually with time, and without fighting against loss or against my body, I can remember what its like to have joyful movement again.
I recently signed up for a new gym with my partner and when we arrived yesterday something about using the machines didn't feel right to me. I looked for a Zumba class and decided, I'm going to go for it. As I danced and sweated and sang along to the songs I watched my eyes lock in the mirror, I noticed fleeting thoughts "wow, you haven't done this in awhile!", or "This is tough!" but as those thoughts came in easily, they were swiftly replaced with, "This is fun!" and "I remember this!". I shook, I jumped, I sashayed, I smiled! I left with so much gratitude for my body that remembered how to dance! I felt pride in all my dance training that made it easy for me to get the combinations, after not taking Zumba for longer than I can remember. I felt proud of my body that remembered how to move!
What I took away was this: our bodies are incredible. Sometimes we get caught in our heads or in our emotions or pain but our bodies remember who we are. Muscle memory is a wonderful way that our bodies keep our joy tucked away for when we need it. Just because you leave something (for whatever reason) you can return. What a lesson in loving your body!
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