Gratitude for the Body

Practicing gratitude is easy. Practicing gratitude for my body is hard. Always has been. 

Though not always for the same reasons. Sometimes it is just forgetfulness. I simply forget to remember to appreciate my body. And, all due respect to god in how she made us, it's kind of understandable since the vast majority of my body systems require little to no effort on my conscious part (e.g. breathing, digesting, circulating). 

Other times though, I have to admit, it is more like neglect. In this case, it's not that I'm forgetting. And it's not that I am ignorant to how amazing the human body is in all anatomical and physiological wonder. I mean, if you marvel at the majesty of the night sky, how could you not be in total awe of the intricacies of the beautifully complicated human body?  So for me, awe, absolutely. 

It's just that I suffer from floating head syndrome. We overly cognitive folks just don't even prioritize our bodies.  I've written about this before. It is a tendency, born of relying far too much on intellectual defenses, to attempt to force our bodies to do exactly what we want as a means to keep transporting our head around efficiently. Speed up: drink caffeine. Calm down: drink camomile tea. Stop the headache: take Tylenol. Stop the stomach pain: take tums. Go to sleep right now. Wake up right now. Don't get hungry yet it's not time for dinner. 

I recently watched Eve Ensler's, play writer and author of "The Vagina Monologues," Ted Talk and she referred to this very issue.  She herself struggled with floating head syndrome until she came face to face with her own bodily neglect when diagnosed with cancer.  In the talk she candidly described how she used to "manipulate" her body to make it do exactly what she wanted it to do when she wanted it to do it. 

Similarly, I read an article in Yoga Journal a while ago where author of Eat Pray Love Elizabeth Gilbert described life before her yoga practice (and her famous book) in which she treated her body as a rental car; strictly an object to get her from Point A to Point B. Nothing to cherish or revere in any formal or informal way. When I read that, I could certainly relate. 

But why? Why does gratitude and a gratitude practice for my body allude me?

Eighteen years ago I began a Gratitude Journal. I still have it. I still write in it. It's interesting too because there is no other book that has remained in my bedside for so long. The same little brown book with unlined brown paper pages within its hardcover. 

I don't write in it everyday. I don't write in it every month. No, I only open it when I feel moved to. And, regrettably, there have at times been long gaps in between such inspirations in the last 18 years. 

I decided when I started it, at the ripe age of 25, that this journal would not be like my regular everyday journal. I would not even write full sentences or use any grammar. Instead I would start each entry with simply the date followed by the words "I am grateful for..." I would then list as many people, places, things, ideas, concepts, experiences, and moments that came to mind.

I decided I would write exhaustibly until there was nothing else springing forth. There would be no forcing or coercing. Sometimes the list had 50 items. Sometimes 3. Neither was better or worse. 

This was not meant to be a task to be accomplished or checked off because in truth I LOVE to check off to do lists.  However in this case, I decided I would not allow this space between the brown pages to be another way I tried to alter, manipulate or improve myself. I would not grade myself on this one or tie the outcome of each entry to any larger meaning about myself. I would just let it flow. 

To give you a taste for the diversity of gratitude bullet points that have made it into the little brown book over the 18 years, here's a sampling in no particular order:

Spare Tires

Sunrises

Extra sharp cheddar cheese

Hope

Lilacs

Long phone calls with a distant friend

Orgasms

My mother in law

Camping

Coffee

Sitting in the sunshine

Trip to Cape Cod

A new snow blower

Forgiveness

An unexpected money gift

My beautiful baby girl

Getting an extension on my assignment

Having a job

Billie Holiday

Naps

Prayer

Dental insurance.

As you can see, the lists could swing from the most trivial and mundane to the bare essentials of a meaningful life. And I'd just let it flow. 

But, in those now dozens and dozens of pages in a half-filled book of gratitude there is one whole area that is quite noticeably absent...my body. And I don't mean just referenced less, I mean a void. A neglect. 

To increase my awareness of this dis-identification with my body, specifically in regards to  gratitude, I've been reading a lot of Thich Nhat Hahn. This Buddhist monk, teacher, writer, and activist commonly reminds us to remember to give a nod of gratitude toward our bodies. Pick up his books or watch him in a You Tube video and you will see him commonly saying thanks to his liver. Or bowing to his kidneys. Remembering it is a blessing to have eyes to see god's beauty and ears to hear the earth's sounds. Simple acknowledgements of vital organs that work for me day in and day out no matter how poorly I treat them. If that's not unconditional love, what is?

A few days ago it was my son's 6th birthday.  Six years ago this week he was born in an operating room by C-Section after 2 days of early to end stage labor and 3 weeks of bed rest due to pre-eclampsia.  In this context it occurs to me that this could be a perfect occasion for an expression of gratitude toward my body.  My body that never has and never will abandon me. No matter what, it will work it's butt off to keep me going and moving toward health and wellness, even if my mind is off doing its own thing. 

They say the relationships that take the worst beatings are the ones we are most secure in; the ones that we know will never leave us in our moment of need. The family member, the friend, the colleague who is most loyal in good times and in bad we are less mindful to be as kind and generous with as we might with someone less reliable. And though that truth has just never sat right with me, I could easily argue I regretfully do the very same thing with my own body. 

So I've given this a lot of thought, and I think the antidote to floating head syndrome is to take a moment each day to express and practice some kind of gratitude toward the body.  Kind of like remembering to say "I love you" to my kids and husband each morning and night rather than "Did you remember to pick up your clothes from the floor?" Practices could look like one of Thich Nhat Hanh's more deliberate body-focused meditations. But it could also be the decision to NOT suck in my belly when I stand in front of the mirror in the morning when I get dressed for work. Or making myself a meal that is both nourishing and yummy. Or it could be briefly engaging in some sort of physical movement when my neck and shoulders begin to spasm after several hours in front of the computer at work instead of pushing through. Or simply saying "thank you for this body" each time I move into a particular yoga pose- my personal preference is Warrior I because I really feel like I am using the strength of every part of my body in that moment as I shift my gaze upward to say thank you to god for this gift of body.  Or, I can simply remember to include some part of my body or my body as a whole when I am listing off my gratitude in my Gratitude Journal. 

Of course all of these ideas are very simple gestures.  But that may be all we need. 

I will try tonight before bed to give back in some way to my body. A body that has been unconditionally loving and loyal to me all day long despite all of my own forgetting and neglecting as I walk around lost in mind and thought. 

Perhaps you can to.