The Medicine We All Need Right Now

By the time the afternoon rolled around, I was all over the place. Inside me felt chaotic. I had pulled out the laundry, but didn’t start it. The bin sat there in the hallway reminding me that I did not have it together. I walked past it again on the way to the cabinet for another handful of m&m’s, because that was totally helping things.

The children felt incessant, and they weren’t even misbehaving. Their hugs and their knock knock jokes and their messes felt like nails on a chalkboard. I started at my laptop on the counter, knowing I should try to be productive. It just wasn’t happening. Maybe you can relate?

There is no right or wrong way to feel right now.

You might be feeling the bliss of extra time with your children, or irritation with their relentless needs.

You might be feeling gratitude that you still have a job, and intense frustration with the realities of working from home.

You might be feeling happy that you have a partner to be isolated with, and annoyed that you can’t get a moment alone.

You might be swinging wildly from one of these to the other in the same day, or even the same hour.

You might be feeling fear, anger, confusion, rage.

Or you might be feeling inspired, motivated, grounded, and hopeful.

You might be feeling multiple of these at the same time.

Let me reassure you: you are doing this right.

We are all being confronted with our “stuff” in a way we can’t deny and hide from. The normal things that occupy our attention out there are gone, and what is left is in here quite literally. Expect all the things to come up, then you can be unsurprised when they do.

Ah yes, hello darkness, I was expecting you.

Then you can just make a cup of tea and relax because you don’t need to DO anything about this. There is nothing to fix. You aren’t broken. You are doing this perfectly.

Somehow, in the midst of my chaotic afternoon, I had the inspiration to put some music on and move my body. It felt creaky at first. My hips felt stiff, my torso locked. Slowly, slowly, the loops in my head began to quiet. My body began to soften.

When it all seems too much.

When you feel overwhelmed.

When the clarity isn’t coming.

When all feels uncertain.

When you feel like you just don’t know what to do, the answer is to move.

When you feel paralyzed with fear: move. When your heart is racing with anxiety: move. When nothing makes sense: move. It doesn’t matter how you move or where. Just move.

Shake, dance, walk, stretch, undulate, curl, dance. Wiggle your fingers. Shake your hair. Circle your hips. Pace your hall. Touch your toes. There is no wrong way, and you can’t mess it up.

As I moved this afternoon, it wasn’t long until the tender layers underneath all the hardened chaos began to surface. I felt the grief and the sadness of the world. I felt the pain of the earth. I felt it all as my heart cracked open and tears spilled down.

I don’t know how long I moved like that, but gradually some space expanded inside and I started to feel a peace. I started to feel hope. I started to feel the flow of love. My movement became a devotion and a blessing to the world as I allowed this love to flow through me.

Your movement doesn’t need to have a goal. You might feel better afterwards, or not, but that’s not the point. We’re not trying to fix or figure or force.

But you will feel something new. You will see something different.

When you move things will shift.

Your body is not a static thing. Your body IS motion. It IS dynamic and changing moment to moment. Your heart is beating. Your breath is flowing in, your digestive system working, your nervous system firing constantly, even when you’re sleeping.

Your body WANTS to move. It wants to twist and roll and shimmy. It wants to dance and undulate, and create, and fuck, and go fast, and go slow. To be loud and big, and be tender and slow and subtle.

When you move your body, you begin to shift layers of stuck energy. There can be no stagnation when the system is in motion.

Movement is not a practical answer to any of the questions. It won't pay your bills or feed your family. But it is a way of being with it all. It’s a way that is helpful. It gives you something to do when nothing else is working. When you move your body, your internal landscape shifts. And when the internal shifts, it often happens that the external shifts as well.