Do you know that feeling when you’re searching for something to wear, and your hand traces over a piece of clothing that you wore on a random, ordinary day that turned out to be extra-ordinary? Or the cozy feeling you get from holding a warm cup of tea in your favorite mug?
Side note: I am convinced that everyone has a favorite coffee/tea mug. Prove me wrong.
Back to my point. It’s seems to be a pretty innate quality of the human condition to attach meaning to physical items. The things that we can remember being with us in those special moments are forever cherished. It’s a tangible way of holding the memory.
But that’s just acknowledging one side of the spectrum. I once found a purse in a thrift store on South Street in Philadelphia with my initials, KN. I thought it was the coolest thing ever - until every time I used this purse, bad things seemed to happen. I quickly donated that item to goodwill, feeling relieved and a tad bit guilty at what I might be passing on to another innocent KN.
I often find myself reminding clients that even though our cells replicate, regenerate, and replenish themselves, your body, in all of it’s shapes and expressions, has been with you through it all. Leading experts in the fields of science and woo-woo agree, our muscles and bones store memories and emotions.
Every step you’ve ever taken, is with you every step you take.
Recently I was looking at the dress I was wearing the day my car was stolen with my dogs inside. They thankfully were recovered safe and sound 23 minutes later, but every breath of the nonstop primal screams that ripped through my body were etched into that fabric. I could have (or should have?) donated or burned that dress.
But that dress has another story. I found it at flea market in West Cork, Ireland, while staying in an off grid hut, on a farm rewilding itself, while I was doing quite the same. It’s lime green & has a whole lot of life left to give.
So on a sunny day in Maine (do we remember what those are?), I put on that dress to change the story. It didn’t need to be an extraordinary day, ordinary would be just fine.
A new imprint, a new memory. Making a conscious decision to shift what I remember beneath the fabric.
I sometimes like to think of bodywork that way. Pausing and remembering what each piece, each part, has been through with us. What memory it’s holding onto and how that imprint is affecting our psyche, our heart and how we’re moving in the world.
When I get to this point of needing to summarize the unexplainable aspects of therapeutic touch, I try to be clear and succinct, yet also honor and allow enough space for the grand mystery of this work.
So I’ll leave you with this. If we just kept collecting items & storing them in our closet, we might be lucky to have them all be filled with good, adventurous memories. But the human experience is riddled with variety, and if we’re not paying attention, the restrictions can become so intermingled with the things that feel free, that no matter what we put on, it doesn’t feel good.
How’s that for an analogy?
Be well, my friends. Call me if you need to rearrange your closet.
