Body Remembrance

They say that an elephant never forgets.

Nor does your body. 

*

One evening, my boyfriend said to me:
"You know what? I've learned something about you. You are not vulnerable."
"What do you mean?" I answered with a proper amount of defence. "I'm very vulnerable!"
"You are not vulnerable", he repeated. "No, you aren't."
 Suddenly I understood.
"You're wounded.", he said.

I felt struck by lightning. He was right. I am a very wounded person.  And how much I ever might try to forget about it, my body remembers everything.

"Do you still like me?" I must have asked him a couple of times to much during our time together. One day, he sighed and smiled at me. "Sometimes, it can be difficult to be close to people, who are living in the moment. ALL THE TIME."

For many years, I worked hard to make sure that I didn't take anyone or anything for granted. I tried to appreciate everything as much as possible; be present, curious and discovering in the moment. But everything needs to be balanced.
Now I see that it was mostly a way to protect myself, basicly not to trust anyone or anything completely, so I minimized the risk of being wounded. By not taking anything for granted, I still had the possibility to be happy, when good things happened around me, without always being afraid of disappointment.

Time flows, things change - but some don't. I found out, that it was continuously very difficult for me to believe in and trust the people around me, even though they tried to show me their friendship and love the best they could. And it still is. However much I want to give up all my defences, my body remembers its wounds and resists.

*

Yesterday, I made a yoga photoshoot in Copenhagen with a good friend of mine. Slowly, we noticed something interesting. If I was on the ground, I felt completely free in my poses - but as soon as I was standing on something just a couple of inches over the ground, my body froze completely with stiffness, and I couldn't do anything. I was afraid of falling down and being injured, even though there wouln't be any remarkable difference. "Maybe that's telling something about why it's difficult for you to put your weight into the arms of an acroyoga partner? Christina asked. Suddenly i realized that my fear of being wounded has been affecting my life much more than I thought. 
It's not only difficult for me to trust my partner in acroyoga. Or partner in life. It's difficult for me to trust my own legs.When I do the drop-backs in my astanga-practise, I need to know that someone is standing by me, ready to catch me if I fall. And that's actually not enough, either. I need them to put a finger on my hips, just so I physically feel that they are REALLY there. It's no problem for me to do the practise, but I panic, if I'm not sure that someone is ready to help me, when I have to let go and trust my body - and myself.

* 

For many years, I've done everything to forget. But my body remembers everything. And the more I work with my body, the more I dig into the stories of my life. It's is maybe the most difficult challenge, I've ever set myself in front of, but I'm trying to let the humble child in me meet the elephant - and meet all the stories, I wanted to forget.