Healing through Movement

My mom had me on the ground running from the start. Four-month-old me was tucked in the baby jogger and tackling the hills of Mont Vernon—ok maybe at this point I can’t take all the credit for this ballsiness, because I was mostly preoccupied by my socks and how uncomfortable they made my feet. Yes, my mom is a badass. She always has been, and always will be. She is an adrenaline junkie, fighter, and one tough cookie. When she still owned the bakery after the (second??) stroke, she spoke in my entrepreneurship class sophomore year of high school. I distinctly remember hearing, “Wow your mom is jacked”, (thanks Brian for being a bomb personal trainer). She is so incredibly stubborn and refused for so long to accept that path her body was taking her on. And for SO LONG I have been frustrated by this; watching her fight with her own body, cursing herself, cursing her situation, leaving herself completely drained. 

I have found that movement heals. Movement brings comfort to the uncomfortable. Stillness is hard. It requires you to look inside yourself and be ok with what you see. When you are still, what you have is all that has been, and all that is there now. You are in the present. So much of our lives are about anticipating future movement—whether it is your next work day, homework that is due, or when you can get to the gym. Before the cancer diagnosis I practiced sitting meditation. I was able to sit with myself, my life, my thoughts, without much attachment. This is much more difficult for me now. After all, I am painfully aware that my mother is dying. Thankfully, I have yoga. To me, yoga is a bridge between movement and stillness. It allows pockets of stillness to reflect on the ever-expanding opening that is the practice. It is empowering. It allows you to take control of your life and decide how much you can handle. It is always there. If you are breathing, you can practice. Yoga teaches to stop fighting your body, and to love it instead. 

With Love,

Genevive