Lessons in Gratitude Day 39

My body remembers how to dance. I’ve been learning and thinking a lot lately about the body and how so much of what happens in our lives–pain, pleasure, stress, excitement, and so many other sensations–are stored in our bodies, often at the cellular level. Tonight I was at a gospel music concert and I realized that it doesn’t matter if I haven’t consistently been around gospel music for at least 20 years, my body still remembers how to clap my hands, move my feet and yes, dance. I didn’t dance this evening and didn’t move my feet a whole lot, but I clapped my hands, sang along and briefly allowed myself to be transported right back to my days singing in a gospel choir. Closing my eyes right now I can still feel the energy and power that came from singing such heartfelt, spirit uplifting music. It is encoded into my DNA, and with just the right trigger, it can wake back up in an instant.

There are things the body knows long before the mind does, though we seldom give the body its proper due. The other day I experienced what I call a “grief burst,” a somewhat unexpected, overwhelming wave of sadness. I sat in my car across the road from Chavez Park and allowed myself to sob for a few moments as the burst hit. In the same way that my body knows how to dance in response to gospel music because it is coded into my DNA, grief is often also held in my cells. Right around this time last year (give or take a few weeks), my father’s failing health turned critical. My body remembers the time of year and what was happening in my life even as his life was winding down, and it yesterday it responded with the grief burst. I am much faster now at recognizing when my grief cells reawaken. For a number of years after my mother died I would experience grief bursts and unexpected waves of sadness in mid-Spring. It took me a while to realize that it was always around the same time of year–around the time that she died. I called it my “mommy cells” waking up. Now it’s my daddy cells, triggered by late summer.

I am grateful for my increasing awareness of how my body functions in this way. I think at times we are cut off from the wisdom of our bodies because we spend so much time–and are rewarded for doing so–in our heads. The idea of “I think, therefore I am” is a bit overrated as far as I’m concerned. How about, “because I am, I think?” I am body, heart, mind, and spirit–inseparable, at least when I am functioning at my best. I recently wrote a short fable called, “Head and Heart Have A Conversation,” in which there seemed to be some disagreement between the two about who should be taking the lead in any particular situation. Body and Sprit weren’t even included in the initial discussion, but managed to make their presence known before all was said and done. How great it would be if I could live in balance where all were operating together, functioning as a whole.

I am grateful for the wisdom and activity of my body. While I have my aches and pains and have slowed down a bit, my body still works pretty well. I am learning through the practice of mindfulness how important it is for me to pay attention to what my body is telling me at any given moment. It has a lot to say if I take the time to listen. Moment by moment the unfolding of life–the sound of music, the smell of molasses cookies baking, the warmth of a late summer evening, and other sensations–all send wake up signals to the cells of our bodies and we respond. One day a grief burst, another day a dance. The body remembers.