Listening to my Body's Pains

"I would like to ask if you are available on August 11-13, 2014 to facilitate the module on body memories."  It was a text message from a religious sister inviting me to run a session for an inter-congregational gathering of women religious formands. I was quick to brush off the invite.  

Firstly, I never handled this module for them in the past.  I had always handled self-esteem, family her-story, and healing of the inner child. Body memories, no!  

Secondly, how could I commit to something half a year away when a single email from my office inbox can change my whole life forever?  

Thirdly, and I guess this is the most truthful reason, I just don't feel that I am in a position to handle such a session now.  At a time when I am grappling with my physical condition and seeking to find the right way to address my current health challenges through a path that mirrors my inner truth, I would definitely feel like a bogus resource person.  

I sent a reply saying I couldn't commit to the schedule and would get back to them in March if my schedule could accommodate it.  My friend, who knows me inside-out and who happened to be with me when I received the text message, would not easily let me off the hook though.  Maybe receiving that message now has a reason, maybe preparing for the sessions and reading on the body-mind-spirit connection will help you address your health woes as well, L said. 

Perhaps.  And so I let my mind listen to what my body had been trying to tell me loud and clear over the past year.  My stubborn self tried to brush aside the messages and so she spoke so loud in a way that I could not ignore her anymore.  What with my left hand now unable to even hold a glass of water without feeling some pain and losing my grip?  

I am overused.  I am abused.  I won't take anymore of this kind of self-abuse.  

That was my left arm and hand complaining through my tendonitis.  My left hand is my dominant hand. I could do everything with it no matter how tired I was.  I could carry the heaviest of bags.  I could lift and push my bed.  I felt like a superwoman with that hand. Now, it feels like I have a jelly hand that can hardly open a bottle of olive oil. Three weeks into therapy and nothing seems to have improved.  The therapy didn't help at all. I am aware though that I can't cast my blaming finger on the therapist alone as I also hadn't done the best I could.  Rest, cold compress, exercise, and therapy.  I hardly really rested my arm and hand.  Cold compress, well, I did it once a day.  Exercise, I failed miserably.  

The tendonitis though is only the tip of the iceberg of my health challenges.  My spine x-ray and MRI results pointed to straightened cervical lordosis and cervical and upper thoracic spondylosis.  It has been more than a week since I got the results but I haven't seen a doctor yet.  I did consult Dr. Google though and got alarmed.  

Quieting down, I contemplated on my tendency to fall into self-abuse and neglect.  Deep inside, there is this feeling that I don't deserve to be taken care of.  It brings me back to body memories of my mother's uncertainty about her pregnancy with me.  It was an unexpected and unwanted pregnancy.  Major breakthroughs in my healing process helped me to touch base with this about a decade ago. That led to a major change in lifestyle.  I wake up now to the reality that I had a relapse.  It feels like I am back to square one.  Yet, my body never fails to call my attention albeit in a painful way.  

I cannot go on neglecting myself.  Not just because I have a son to live for but because I have a life to live.  I have a life that is meant to be, that is not just an accident.  I am worthy of being loved - no matter all the heartaches and the demands of the world outside.  At the end of the day, I am my only true care-giver.  

And so, I face tomorrow with courage and a sense of commitment to life - not just other people's life but MY life.  Resolutions are in order even if New Year is still more than a fortnight away.  Slowly, I will reclaim my healing process and not rely on the free services that my health medical insurance offers.  I will invest on my body not because my son needs me to be alive but because I want to live my life in fullness and I deserve no less than the best possible care.  I will temper immediate gratifications and all the external trimmings of health and wellness and go back to the most basic stance in the healing process: to listen to and to befriend my body.  

Bencab's Undressing: a reminder to let go of the superficial body care I have settled for and go for healing that comes from within