As I sit down to write this post, I’m a few days out from my 37th birthday & what would have been my father’s 70th. Just a few weeks from now I will be honoring the 12th anniversary of his passing.
The aftermath of his sudden death introduced me to the depths of darkness I didn’t know existed. Two months into mourning, I decided I needed a little light. Swirling in office his chair, I googled adventures. Bike the California coast. No, too easy. Bike across America. Perfect. I smiled and felt like myself again, my father’s unpredictable wild card.
Long training rides became my therapy. My easy 20 mile weekday rides would always include a visit and chat at his gravesite. When the big adventure finally arrived, I flew myself out to Seattle and joined a team of insane individuals who also thought it would be fun to bike 3,300 miles in 48 days.
I think it’s worthy to mention, before I started training I had no idea how to clip into a bicycle. Let alone a bicycle (my father’s) that was technically too big for me.
This trip was dangerous and demanding on all levels - physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually.
It was the perfect cocktail. Medicine for my soul.
After my body adjusted to the rigor, I started to find a sweet rhythm with my rides. Breeze through the first 20 miles and then snack break. Another 20 and lunch. But then, when I rolled into mile 60, I’d find myself alone in my pace, and that’s when they came. The flood of tears, the roaring, the yelling, the gripping of my handle bars, the curl of my stomach that took my breath away.
It’s taken more than 3,300 miles to process my grief, but that adventure taught me how working with the body can help access and release deeply held emotions and trauma.
I’m inspired as a bodyworker to provide sessions that support people who are living with grief, loss and emotional pain. Since I do not offer talk therapy and hold close to my scope of my practice, people often ask what that means.
It can be as simple as giving your grief permission to be in the room with us. Sharing what’s real and present in your life right now. When we invite the dream body to remind you what was going on in your life when the back pain started, it can shift the pain from being a nuisance to an expression yearning for compassion. Other times, the presence of your grief, whether you verbalize it to me or not, will show me how and where to work with you.
Bodywork takes us deeper into our journey with grief. It’s a tool and companion. We all know massage helps us to feel grounded, centered and peaceful. But I’m here for the real stuff. The tidbits of insight, the deep integration breath, the remembering of abandoned body parts, the invitation back home into your heart.
So to draw this sharing to a close. I believe it’s next to impossible to define exactly how bodywork helps to process grief. We could speak poetically about this for days on end. It really is a mystery, one that doesn’t want to be confined to words.
But I invite you to join me at mile 60, let’s ride the breakdown together, so we can let the light back in.
