In the Body or On the Train?

How much time do you spend IN your body? It’s a question I’ve been asking myself lately.

To me, “in the body” means that I am present and in the moment. I am here. Aware. Feeling my feelings. Listening, not just with my ears, but my whole self.

When I am in this place, I feel very alive. I actually love myself and am more likely to nurture myself. I am more likely to give myself what I need, whether that would be exercise or eating well or listening to music or dancing. Or, in the fast pace of my day, by taking a moment and calming down and simply closing my eyes and deepening my breath. More becomes available to me in these moments. I open to greater truths. I open to see a bigger picture. I open to my own experience. I am present.

Being in my body really is that powerful.

So what keeps that from being the normal state I exist in? Why can’t I live so comfortably in my vessel day in and day out? In theory it seems so simple. Yet, it eludes me. I find myself in my body, only to be whisked away on the very next train that goes through my brain. Snagged by one little thought that grabs my attention and then pulls me on board. It seems I am much more comfortable there, in my head. And I am sad about that. I miss out on much of my life by being stuck there. I often feel separate and alone. I disengage from self and get caught up instead in the drama of life, my own and others. I find myself constantly seeking something from outside of me, convinced that I don’t have what I need, and so therefore must get it from somewhere else. Along with this comes fear, urgency, desperation, pain, control, stress and other undesirables. I eventually find myself saying, “there’s got to be a better way to live”.

And there is. However, to get there, I realize that I am going to need to give up some things. Namely, my “need” to escape. See, that’s what I believe that thought train is about for me. I convince myself that it will take me somewhere better than where I am now. The judgment I hold seems to be that this moment is not good enough. The belief is that anywhere else is better. And underneath all that, I sense lays something much more revealing perhaps – a belief that I am not good enough, whole enough, loved enough. No wonder I often don’t want to be “here”.

In some ways the thought train is little different than taking a drug. It is an addiction used for many of the same reasons. It’s a promise of something greater yet very, very seldom delivers.

I am writing about this because this is something I struggle with daily – to be present and in my body. It seems to be key to my living a joyful, fulfilled life full of healthy relationships. I believe it is also key to finding a quiet peace cradled in the knowing of the whole, enough, spiritual being I am.