Hey Friends!
Confession. Last year I avoided going to the doctor's office. I was diagnosed with a chronic illness and over the last two years, it has required a check-in every 3-6 months. I was going so often when I first got diagnosed that a receptionist warned me that insurance might start rejecting me soon. With every visit also came lab work - poke with a needle, pee in the cup. The only question was how many vials would I be giving this time. And I did it. But I hit a wall. I hit a wall last year when I just couldn’t do it again.
I wasn’t overwhelmed by the actual lab work- though not pleasant, it was relatively easy. I could just show up - no appointments necessary. It generally took less than half an hour. And the vampires (the people who poke me) are always kind. What was overwhelming was the results. A few hours after returning home I would get a text or email from MyChart that said "your test results are in". And suddenly I would fall down a rabbit hole. Were these numbers good or bad? Are these numbers worse or better? Should this number be high or low? What does google have to say about these seven words that I cannot pronounce? Where is the line graph that tells me if I’m trending up or down or stable and what do we want it to be doing.
Also. What does this mean about me? These test results never feel like a test of how my body is doing. It feels like a test for me. Did I pass or did I fail? Did I exercise well? Am I eating well? Have I done something wrong? Did I do more damage? What will my blood reveal? What will my urine say about me? Every few weeks I felt like I was sitting in front of a mean teacher who would never say "well done" or "look at your progress" or "I’m so proud of you". Just a pass. Or a fail.
So I avoided the testing to avoid the self-judgement. The only way I could silence the inner critic was to not give it anything to assess. I still did my best with regard to what my body needed. But I just couldn’t go through the pass/fail judgement anymore.
But a new year is an opportunity for a reset. And I’m resetting. I’m practicing self care -even in ways that are scary- like going to the doctor. So a couple weeks ago I went. And here’s what I realized as I walked myself through the anxiety: My self care must continue by how I think about these tests and these visits. How do I treat myself when I receive the test results? How do I talk to myself as I read them? How do I treat myself in the waiting room? How do I take in the information? How do I frame the testing and the results? How do I prepare myself to ask questions? How do I reinterpret pass/fail into a snapshot? Here is the snapshot of your body during testing. And here is what it might reveal.
Ultimately, I have to remember that these tests are not a pronouncement of my goodness, my hopefulness, my character or my commitment. They are not a reflection of who I am. They are only a reflection of how my body is doing as it navigates a white-supremacist, capitalist, patriarchy. And as a Black woman, the fact that I am still here at all is a win... is revolutionary.
For those of you with a body that is constantly being tested, I hope you will remember to be proud of your body for surviving. I hope you will be gentle with yourselves. I hope you will be as proud of yourself as I am - regardless of what the snapshot reveals. Because your body is trying in the midst of a white-supremacist, capitalist, patriarchal system.
WILD: My husband and I use tickles with our son as part of our love language with him. But I never expected how he would begin doing the same. In the last week, every time he makes a joke, he reaches to tickle my belly. He'll never know it, but the sensation reminds of how it felt when he lived in my belly- just a little butterfly whose movements tickled from the inside. How wondrous that my body remembers when he was a part of it.
HOLY: I attended a funeral last week. For me and my husband it was the first one we had been to in years. But the last one for each of us was fairly traumatic. Holding onto each other through this one meant everything. And I was honored to stand with our friends, for whom this funeral was one of the hardest they will ever experience. It was holy ground.
FREE: Last week I interviewed Cole Arthur Riley about her new book Black Liturgies. When I asked her if she was scared to include her own poetry in the book she replied, "Yes, but I really had to name myself a poet AND honor that this was the first kind of writing that I did as a kid." I haven't been able to stop thinking about the freedom of first naming yourself and the honoring of what we practiced as kids. I was like Cole. My first writing wasn't stories, it was poetry. That's how I fell in love with writing and what I could do with words.
What is making you feel wild, holy, and free these days? Would love to hear!
Full of poetry,
Austin
I am feeling wild, holy, and free as I get to spend time offering warm accompaniment in a variety of ways: speaking with college classes as a guest presence (not presenter, because I am there to relate, not lecture); meeting on Zoom to provide a container and companionship for folks seeking to repair and strengthen relationships; and proofreading the manuscript of my book called Being Restorative that goes to press next week. Feeling the joy of aliveness and the great grief of the world, knowing that showing up matters and how I show matters, too.
Wild: I am removing this week my final belongings from my ex-husband’s house and feel the last anchor of my former domestic life being removed from the sea floor.
Holy: I am learning, laboring, and struggling to honor myself as a beloved child of God. I have spent my 48 years raising up others, and without that vocational purpose exercised through my work in the church - I must turn to face my holy self.
Free: I gave myself permission to surrender this year and let God show me “what is next”. I’ve been white knuckle focused on surviving in free fall. Now, I’m learning how to float and accept freedom. I don’t belong anywhere.