Body Wisdom

Last night, I participated in a “breathwork practice for integrating embodied presence.” <https://workwithlibby.com/breathwork/> As I settled into the practice, an email exchange with my mother earlier in the day came into my awareness. 

She’d written about her many worries that day: four separate situations and people ranging from why the orioles aren’t taking as much grape jelly to the unpredictability of which day the person who mows her lawn will show up. My mother is 92 years old, lives alone on her “farm,” often sleeps poorly, and feels guilty if she takes an afternoon nap. 

I responded to a variety of things in her email but also commented on her worries, expressing my hope that she might let go of what she could and trust that she is held in God’s loving embrace no matter what. 

Her reply defended her response. She’s a “realist,” wants to understand the world around her, being informed helps her understand things better. As I continued the breathwork, I realized my mother felt judged by my encouragement to let go of her worries and trust that all would be well.

I recognized my words to my mother were actually words to the part of me that is like my mother, an attempt to manage and “correct” my own anxieties. For years, I’ve known that when my body feels tight across the back of my shoulders, I am worried about something, feeling anxious. In the past, the tension in the back of my shoulders was like hardened concrete, and it took a long time for it to crack apart and — eventually — soften.

As the breathwork practice continued, I breathed into the tightness I was feeling in the back of my shoulders. Not to make it go away, just noticing and breathing.

I asked myself the question often prompted by my therapist. What does this part of me need to hear? This part that is like my mother, carries worries and anxieties, creates tension across the back of my shoulders. In response, I assured this “mother part” — and my shoulders — that I was here, I was with her, I would stay right here.

It was as if this wise, integrated self was sitting with this “anxious mother part” of me, holding a reassuring hand to her back, talking softly in short phrases, holding her with my presence.

Gradually, the tightness across the back of my shoulders loosened, and the anxious, worried feeling abated. The “mother part” of me and wisdom part of me were quiet, present in the softness. 

I regret trying to manage my mother’s feelings. I wish I had simply acknowledged her worries. I tried to “fix” her. Of course, I want her to feel less anxious. She’s worked hard, still works hard. She deserves to rest, to feel good about herself. But that’s not for me to manage. I hope I can “come alongside” her feelings with more awareness in the future.

As for me, it’s helpful to recognize that I still try to manage my own worries and anxieties. I am still judging those feelings, rejecting them. I may always have that impulse, both to manage and to judge. Yes, I have other choices now. And judging and rejecting aspects of my being are not helpful to the process of opening up my life to more joy, more freedom. Being aware, being “with” … always helpful.

I’m grateful for the opening and the insight afforded me in this time of integrating embodied presence. And I’m grateful for increased awareness of this “mother part” of me. 

Integration. Embodiment. Presence. Powerful words. I continue to marvel at the wisdom my body offers me.