Lifting weights = feeling and accepting emotions.

Back at work this morning and before things get underway I want to share something:

Yesterday I had a rough day thinking about big, existential things like life, death, love, family, and vitality. Oddly enough, though I am still sensitive about things today, I am able to keep going and feel almost normal. One of the reasons for that is that I let myself feel my emotions yesterday, and I made decisions based on those emotions, and as a result was able to make connections that needed to be made. I didn't push those feelings or big thoughts away because they were too hard.

I did not set out to do that. Let me tell you what kicked it off: I went to the gym like normal, and I began my workout. It was hard. I was in agony, and I felt like I was dying--except in that moment it came to me that this feeling was a lie. I was not, in fact, dying. I know someone who is dying, and I am most definitely alive. I am full of life. As I did my deadlifts and floor sweeps and struggled, I connected my body and my feelings and accepted that someone I love is dying, that I am alive, and that I need to own my own vitality.

I burst into sweaty tears and kind of agonizingly finished my set, and then collapsed onto the floor, suddenly unable to control the rush of grief. Someone I love is dying, and there is nothing I can do about it. I called my boss and told her I could not come in to work because I needed to let this grief run its course. It won't be the last time I see it, but, for now, it has been put in it's place.

 I am so glad that I work out. I'm so glad I lift weights. If I did not have that as part of my routine, I may have persisted in some kind of disconnected fog of vague unhappiness and distance from the reality of losing a family member. I may not have made the timely decision to buy a plane ticket and go where I need to be this weekend. Challenging my body, as difficult as it is, has become the best way to stay present and grounded, and to make connections from inside of my mind to the world outside.

Love and cancer

The thing that matters is to love in such a way that the object of your love feels as if there is nothing that could change that love. It's not fair or just how that love is allotted--some may want love where it cannot be given or not recognize it when it's there, and miss it altogether.

But in a way, a natural consequence of a love like that is to be entirely taken for granted. You will know that you have loved someone that way when they feel so secure in your love they can go out in the world knowing it will be there when they return without even consciously thinking about it. This is typically expressed as parental and familial love--I would never advocate romantic love that receives no  acknowledgment or reciprocation, though there are definitely moments when you have to love your spouse this way, too.

You will know you have been loved like that when you lose it, or are about to lose it--I guess that's the twist, huh?

Cancer sucks.