The Body Remembers

I am 61.

Every time I think about this, my heart skips a beat, rebels, and turns around mischievously, “ I am 16, you may be 61.” And it always brings a smile to my face. Yes, I feel 16. My eyes still twinkle with fresh ideas, my laugh is unbridled, more so now than it was, I am filled with hope (most of the time, except when I absorb what is happening around, like the Unnao Case Bail/Stay), and my body, well usually it is very agile, and mobile. 

Until a few days ago.

When I arrived at a decision that I no longer wanted to carry the baggage of my initial 30 years. I am 61. 30 years of a life that was many lifetimes of difficulties rolled into one, and then 30 years of life, trying to understand, stand up and move forward.

So it makes sense that in the 61st year, I lay down the baggage. What do you think?

In any case I thought it would be easy, its not as if I am sitting and thinking about the initial 30 years of my life everyday, it's not something that bothers me on a daily basis, I have processed it in my head, I have made it my life’s mission to ensure that as many as I can possibly reach are informed about all that they need to know, to prevent what I endured in my first 30 years. 

So in a nutshell I thought it would be a cakewalk. 

I decided to make it a ritual, write out one memory at a time, and then let go. Easy breezy.

What I was not prepared for was how my body responded to the excavation.

Took me by surprise.  

Every cell suddenly decided, “Hey you, we have carried the pain for 60 years or less, and it’s great that you want us to release the burden, we too need to rest.” I realized, my body had carefully buried my pain for decades, so that I wouldn't get buried under what I had endured, so that I could get up and soar into my potential for the last thirty years. 

With my new decision to let go of any baggage that I was consciously or subconsciously carrying, it started releasing. My God, the pain started bubbling from each cell. In waves, in strings, in blankets, smothering the limbs, and then receding, as I let go of a particular memory. 

Yes, I am in physical pain. With every memory that I lay down. And I am so grateful. To my body. To each cell that held strong all these years and enabled me to reach this point today, when I have the courage to let go of this deeply embedded pain. 

My body. Remembered.  More than my mind.