Things to say to your body
It's only hokey if you don't get right to the real stuff
Today, write something about your body. There’s only one rule I ask you to follow when doing so: use a filter of compassion. It’s okay to write about anger or sadness or any other difficult emotion if you like, but filter it through compassion as best you can.
Perhaps you want to write about something your body has endured (or continues to endure), something incredible you body once did, or perhaps you simply want to write as an olive branch to try to make peace with your body in some way.
I write this from the land of postdrome (like a hangover, but for migraines; technically the fourth and final phase of a migraine cycle). After each one, as soon as I can tolerate looking at a screen, I look again to published academic research to see what new things the scientific community can give me about what felt like explosions in my brain and upper body nerves. After decades of tracking my own data around migraine triggers (what did I eat right before? what was the barometric reader? how was I feeling? etc.), I compare the scientific community’s latest research to my own to see what edges might possibly match to explain what each time makes me wonder if my brain will rupture.
But, in the throes of it, my brain, if not entire head, feels like its betraying me, turning into some unfamiliar part completely separate from me.
And, that’s where I’ll start today. Where’s your starting place? Hint: the best stuff might be lurking behind the idea about which you thought, “eh, not that.” Let’s go.
