Movement is suggested on the news to deal with anxiety triggered by the fear of the virus. When warning bells go off in my body, stillness is required both in body and mind. Only then do parts return over time.
Samuel, the ever worker, climbs up and down the ladder working most of the day to paint another wall in the living room. While watching him Shane calls, and we chat. He is readying the kids to go out on the crisp sunny day to do yard work.
The sun does call me, yet my body needs stillness. When wound up by fear movement exacerbates the alarm system already ringing wildly. I love walking, but I love being in my body more with the ability to feel its needs and responsiveness.
Though by now this should be known to me, breaking off from my body during fearful times began in childhood as a means to survive, solidifying as trauma continued repeatedly. Splitting from my body occurs when fear visits.
What is happening now is historic. We have not experienced anything like it in our lifetime. There is nothing similar since 1918 during the flu epidemic.
My dear grandmother lost her husband, a grandfather I never knew, to the flu. She was left to raise two little toddlers on her own finding work as a school teacher at the end of the road in a one room school-house. One toddler would become my father.
Stillness. My body needs stillness. Once calm, movement will be craved to work out the kinks. But for now it sets off more red lights inflaming PTSD rather than calming it.
It is OK, telling myself over and over, a person who likes to achieve many things daily. Sometimes achievement is measured by listening to one’s body, finding ways to come back into it.