Body Brilliance

When the fight is over…how do we recover?

I imagined there could be some follow ups from my musing, “Body Battles”, earlier this week. After all, stories about our bodies are deeply entrenched in us and can take up a great deal of mind space for our whole lives. After I set it to publish, I was already making notes…”and, another thing…” Then, before I knew it, another outpouring came as I looked through my “body” notes.

“Body Battles” was primarily focused on food, and my reclaiming of my worth to stop controlling my shape and size. Today’s writing is on how wise she is (my body), and how kindness and movement have made her flourish.

My body is the greatest source of creativity for me! Wanna know how I know that? I get the best ideas for posts, blogs, songs when I’m on the massage table! Or, in a deep stretch or in Shavasana (final resting pose in yoga).

Last October, I was getting a massage in Bali, (yep, Bali!) and I started listing the gratitude I had for different parts of my body. I started writing this “love for my body” story in my head… 

the bowl of flowers is what I saw thru the massage table face hole!

The Power of Touch and Sensation

This tiny little Balinese woman is straddling me, rubbing warm oil up and down my back…”this is the life!”. I mused on how much I loved being touched. 

However, I do not like being touched when I’m hot and sticky. My whole life, no matter how big or small my body was/is, I’ve always run hot. 

One of our drivers in Bali told us they had two seasons: Hot and Hot and Wet! There was something about being in that heat for a week that shifted something inside me. Stay tuned for my new transforming relationship with sweat!

Our room got just cool enough at night for easy sleep. Our days started at 8am with yoga. It was naturally hot yoga. The Shala had beautiful views and a decent breeze through it in the morning. After a delicious and gorgeous breakfast (have you seen dragonfruit?!), I’d make the 5 min long climb back to our room to change into my swimsuit for the day. 

One of the amazing about this trip was having a tiny pool (maybe the size and shape of a king sized bed) outside our room. I discovered the perfect use for it! I would be so hot and sticky returning from yoga, I peeled off my clothes and hopped in our private osasis, naked! Then I could easily slip into my suit, and head back down to (one of!!!) the resort’s pools, and swim and read/write til someone brought me a lunch menu. Amazing, right?!

I’m not sure I’ve ever been skinny dipping before. It has to be one of the best sensations; water on skin. (I mean, I’m in love with water too.) It’s empowering - the freedom of being naked, outside, in a world that tells us to cover up; especially those of us that don’t have desirable looking bodies. This was also the first time in my life that I wore a two piece; at 49 years of age! Another notch in accepting this body of mine.

Embracing the Belly

I might be the largest I’ve ever been, and I’ve also never been at more peace with myself, my body, my life. I feel it easier to find joy, and easier to find balance even in the hardest of times. There is something about my belly growing too big to not be able to suck in that has released something in me.

You know… almost every woman I know, knows what I’m talking about. I have pulled my stomach in for photos, standing in front of people, whenever I could think it, my whole life. I had a client (in her 60s) discover that she didn’t know how to relax her belly, when we were working on breathing. We gasped together at that revelation!

I had gotten real friendly with my belly years ago, as I taught others to have more freedom and flexibility with their bellies, for easier breathing for singing. I began to allow mine to be softer; to stick out. It was easier (mentally) when I was smaller (though I’ve never had a flat tummy).

Then, at some point a couple of years ago when I was gaining some weight, and my belly got too big for “sucking in” to have an effect. There were many feelings I had about this, and in the end, I’ve accepted the freedom of it. Oh well; there she is!

Soulshine Bali had mirrors everywhere - it was a lovefest!

Trusting the Body

Is it a coincidence that it’s newer large size and my acceptance of it have collided? I started making peace with my body and not forcing it to be different in 2018. They say the part of the healing process of coming out of a lifetime of diet wars is that your body has to learn to trust you again. Trust that you won’t starve it anymore. I had denied hunger cues for decades in an effort to lost weight many times, and I had to learn to listen for them; feel for them again. I learned to eat what I wanted; no more restriction for the sake of “being good”. In fact, good and bad got taken out of my food descriptors. 

Part of what led me to my current size was this free from restriction eating, and then the stress of 2020-21. I remember being in Costco right before the shut down and starting to panic when I saw everyone else’s full carts and wide-eyed-fear. It triggered a scarcity response for me. Funny enough, the way food panic works for me is, I can’t think about food. I came away with a wheel of brie, a bottle of wine and a bag of pot stickers. 

After a lifetime of restricting and binging, the two years of rebalancing went out the window and I dug into a bunch of comfort food periodically that year. The traumatic results of that year helped me store it!  

Here’s a great podcast with Christy Harrison and Caroline Dooner that visit the complexities and nuances of the harms of diet culture and the effects of mental starvation. They’ve done a ton of research and are good sources.

Stuck in Stress and Finding Real Rest

I mentioned in “Body Battles” that I moved less during this time. I was reflecting on that and realizing that it might have just seemed like I moved less, but it probably was more than usual. I had a pretty regular yoga practice before the pandemic, so that was one thing that changed for me of which I could notice effects. I was now sitting at a computer all day on calls with my clients, but I started taking almost daily walks, for months.

Seemed like Charlotte had an exceptionally beautiful spring in 2020. In those first few weeks, taking a walk in the neighborhood was the only thing to do outside of our homes. I noticed the birdsongs so clearly; it seemed quieter in other ways. The warmer days had a perfectly matched cool breeze. If I was walking with Keith after my last client, we’d take a glass of wine or cocktail out for our stroll. I noticed the flowers and trees more. Did any of you have this similar experience?  It was the best part of my day; when I could manage it. 

Because there were also plenty of days that I was in a chair for 7 hours and then on the couch for the rest of the night. 

I was on my feet for 6-8 hours each Friday as I went to check and care for mom. As the world shut down, her Alzheimer’s progressed with the isolation and her needs were greater. In the midst, I tried to walk more. I walked with creative purpose in the fall as I read Julia Cameron’s Walking in this World (kind of a sequel to The Artist’s Way). 

But, by 2021, I got stuck. I shut myself in my new house after a break-in for months; I had the sludgey days of grief after dad died and we moved mom to skilled nursing that summer. And then when the shoes stopped dropping, I had to discover real rest apart from being stuck or still. I learned a Nervous System Freeze (shut down) state is NOT restful. In fact, it’s pretty darn exhausting.

The grief eased as I started some grief coaching in 2022. One of the big contributors to that ease and thaw was a lot of self-compassion work. Check out Kristin Neff’s brilliant work. I’ve found that these exercises also help increase my patience, and help me provide more grace for myself too.

A Relapse after the Thaw?

After being in my house a year, I started to walk and finally explore the neighborhood. I hadn’t realized that I’d stopped walking. Keith and I started gigging more. That was more time off the couch, but not moving so much. 

I was determined to be more purposeful with exercise, find new routines, and maybe it was time to take a look at my food intake again. I had a few workshops at the beach that fall and walked a ton! 

At some point I noticed some discomfort of body parts touching that I wasn’t used to; the heat made it especially noticeable. I decided that I’d try meds this time to help me with weight loss. After all, they had helped with anxiety before. I thought, why should I do this alone. I lasted one month.

I didn’t like the side effects of the meds. I was experiencing anxiety over the food rules and restrictions, and I started to feel sad, and mad, that I had once again forced my body (and mind) into discomfort, so that I could lose weight. I tried to use the “I’m doing it for my health” argument, but panic attacks aren’t healthy either. So…

I cried. I released. I released changing it. 

Changing my Relationship with Exercise 

In my decades of dieting and exercising, only food changes have made weight loss/gain occur. I hardly exercised at all when I lost 100 lbs starving myself on weight watchers years ago. But, since exercising was always paired with dieting in my history, I learned to hate that too.

Just like with dieting, I exercised with my mom when we were on a “healthy kick”. We “sweated to the oldies” with Richard Simmons in the late 80s when we did WW for the first time after 8th grade. My mom loved to swim, and would swim for exercise. I loved the water and loved to play in the water. And, I was good at swimming and treading water. I never thought of it as exercise, until she would time us treading; telling me that we needed to get 20 minutes (or whatever) to burn calories.

I didn’t play a sport, never even thought of it. My sister was the designated family “tom-boy” - always playing something and getting dirty. My mom had pruned me to be a prissy girly-girl, in dresses and bows, and never wanted me to get dirty, much less, hurt. I didn’t even learn how to ride a bike until I was an adult! So, gym class in school was torture - I was chubby and no experience with moving!

I joined gyms periodically as an adult when I’d get on one of those learned health kicks. I did step aerobics, kickboxing, there was even a time I ran, because my ex wanted us to do races. I hated every minute of it. But, there was a purpose outside of losing weight for that activity (although, I still held out hope in the back of my mind.)

Reflecting on this history, of my exercise experience being paired with food restriction, makes me think that it’s kinda the worst time to be moving more; when you’re taking in less calories. Move more, Eat less - Stupid Philosophy!

I found yoga in my 30s and it has been my most consistent experience with moving my body ever since. And, I enjoy it; probably because I didn’t seek it out for body transformation, but found peacefulness there. 

So, after I cried over my last weight-loss/restriction trial (hopefully, for the last time) I thought, well how else can I take care of my body? I need to move. Not to mention, my doctor’s advice on keeping dementia at bay - “move and sweat” - ugh! Ok.

I continued my walking when I got back from the beach that fall. It felt good. I enjoyed my different routes in the neighborhood. And, then as if the universe was testing me, I woke up with a pain in my foot so sharp that I couldn’t put weight on it. I got plantar fasciitis for Christmas in 2022!

Moving - the New Body Quest

My only resolution for 2023? Fix this foot!!

I couldn’t walk, but I had the bug to move! I was starting to separate my fear of dieting from my hatred of exercising. I sought ways to move that made me feel good; unwinding it from a means to lose weight. Naturally, I found my way back to yoga. I committed for 3 months; getting to 2 or 3 classes a week - working in gentler forms for good stretches; being tender with my foot. I got some good massages and worked with a Neuro-muscular therapist on ways to support and my foot - with stretches and retraining my gluts and walking patterns.

I got new supportive shoes! By May, I was walking again. This time, I was walking on the beach in my Chacos. I added doing weight lifting once a week with a personal trainer. Coming up on 50, I knew I needed to gain some strength. I traded yoga for swimming that summer and found my way into new ideas and creative energy as I stroked my way down each side of the pool. 

And, then Bali.
In Bali, I did it all!
I walked, I hiked, I swam, I had yoga.
My body didn’t really change much that year, but I felt great!
I had found different ways to move it and make it strong and happy. 

I had a week of all of this great movement that made me feel the just right kind of tired. Paired with meals prepared for me; delicious and nutritious. It was really wonderful!

this was BEFORE breakfast every morning! Dragonfruit is the pinkish thing!

Revelation & Learning to Appreciate the Sweat  

And, even in the heat, I accepted the sweat. I luxuriated in the oily warmth of massages every other day (told you it was amazing!). I reflected on my newest relationship with my body - to be kinder. Accepting her celebrating through touch, massage, and showing her off. 

There were a couple of days of hiking that, once upon a time, would have humiliated me. The worst hardship of living in a larger body is the judgment; spoken or not. I used to fear stopping on a hike, or looking weak doing something physical, imagining what people were saying about the fat girl. The truth is, even at my smallest, hiking has always been hard on me. I have always over-heated quickly and easily, and that usually prompts me to stop. When I ran, I ran slow. (I was also very injury free!)

So, there I was in Bali, hiking down to the ancient temples, and I was getting out of breath going DOWN! The stone steps were thick and far apart. When I got to the bottom, I could barely admire the ruins, dreading the climb. That’s where’s my heart would be working the hardest. 

I had a discovery about my heart and exercise last summer when I started work with my trainer. The value of a trainer is that they will push me harder than I will push myself. And, it was on our second session with that I made the connection between a racing heart due to exertion and my experience with panic attacks. After years of trauma recovery, the last few focusing on nervous system awareness and regulation, I finally made the connection… I had not only hated exercising because it was so often paired with food restriction, but a racing heart triggered panic that was similar to my history of anxiety and lack of agency.

Holly helped me by adding a fan for my face for these moments where it felt like I couldn’t go on. She would pay attention to the exercise patterns that would bring the out of control heart rate and pair them with a recovery pattern before digging in harder. It pays to listen for the wisdom your body can teach you! And, to have compassionate coaches and trainers! 

So I started up the old stone steps in Bali, telling Kristin and our guide Bawa that I’d probably have to stop a few times. It was a nice trek to take slow, as there were beautiful overlooks into the luscious rice fields; photo ops built in! 

Kristin and I were back in town a week when we decided we wanted to keep walking. Luckily, she’s my neighbor (around the corner), so Kristin, Squishy and I have been walking for coffee 2-3 times weekly sense. Spud has taken Squish’s (best dog ever!) place the last couple months. I also heard recently that a walking partner (and talking) is another notch against the fight of dementia - score!

I wasn’t THAT sweaty - my bathing suit (underneath) was still wet from the water temple; probably what saved me from over-heating on the climb!

How to Celebrate the Body

I don’t how my body will change in the future; she might get bigger and/or get smaller. All I know is that life is easier when I don’t force her and I’ve accepted the way she is right now. 

Here are things that have helped me find this new peaceful relationship:

• Monthly massages… Finding a massage therapist who knows me; knows my body and is intuitive enough to take care of me has been one of the best things I could’ve ever done for myself. It helps me mentally as well as physically. I’ve mostly seen two people in the last 10 years, and it is a beautiful gift.

• Walking around naked, a lot at home, or skinny-dipping here in my private pool in Bali. Being comfortable with nothing on and catching a reflection of myself and learning to cringe less… it takes practice to change that response. It’s funny, the same thing has happened with my voice over the years. The more I have recorded and listened to myself over the years, the more I have excepted the way my voice sounds. I learned how to cringe less!

• Wearing a swimsuit (which I’ve always done) and not worrying about my position/angle, sitting, lying, standing. 

• Not sucking in. Whew! That’s a game changer! 

• I will admit the hardest thing to do is to appreciate photos. We are a very visual society, and so many of our images and perceptions of good bodies are small. Either on TV or the movies, magazines, references in books we read, social media - smaller bodies are more appreciated and get more screen time. 

• So, I have found it helpful to find larger body people to follow on social media; it helps to see more people like me around. Hoping that will continue to help me be more accepting of photos of myself.

• Paying attention to it. Asking it what it needs; what it needs to stop. Moving it when it needs it and resting when it needs it! Feeding it when it needs it. 

Lastly, having a partner who loves on you is incredibly helpful and inspiring. I’m grateful to be with Keith, who is sensitive and open to learning about fatphobic language, and supportive and non-judgmental of my food choices. 

Through Acceptance and Kindness, my body and I have become friends. Moving her taps into my best ideas and most creative self. She really is the ultimate teacher. 

I have one final note… Of all the sensitivities I have, I am probably most ignorant of ablest privileged tendencies I have; or maybe forget. Much of this particular body story of mine is about movement, and I think there is still some prejudice or judgment that I hold in feeling good about myself for moving. I am convicted to remember, and to say, exercise and movement is not the marker of good health, nor is “good health” the ultimate good or goal for many; not the arbiter of morality, if you will. I am grateful that I can move in ways that make my body feel good, and I want to recognize that not all have that privilege.

The learning never stops!