Tonight as I was walking the beach, I thought about why I move. When I was young, I moved for the love of the game. For the competition. To be the best. To win. To play. To laugh.
At some point movement began to fulfill other needs, such as winning the approval of others, like coaches. For me to feel good enough. For me to think my body was good enough. Movement, while still always a joy, also became something I “had” to do, for me to fit a certain image. Something I thought I could control. Basically to be loved (what most things come down to).
Over the past few years I have been healing my relationship with movement, and it is a rolling journey (aka uphills and downhills, both mentally and physically). At one point I had to stop all exercise for my body to get out of chronic fight-or-flight mode, yet when I surrendered, I knew that it is what I needed so badly. More tenderness and compassion. The dreaded word – rest.
Now I know that rest is a beautiful thing. Though sometimes I still feel guilty about not working “harder” or doing “more”. And sometimes there is fear that movement will hurt me, based on past pains or injuries. But I acknowledge and let go – knowing those are stories and not truths. It has been over 2 years since changing my course, and I am grateful for my new perspective.
Now I move because it feels good. Because it makes me happy. Because it makes me strong. So I can play the sports I love again. So I can explore the world around me and hike to the best views. So I can have a healthy body that allows me to more fully participate in life. I move for energy and balance. To try new things. To see my potential. I move to dance. To ground myself. To be with others. Now I move as a form of love.
Worth trying sometime. Would love to know why you move or how you want to move differently.
Yours jenuinely, xoxo