Building Gratitude for your Body
“We celebrate our ability to create machines that move as man, yet we take for granted the miracle that is the human body.” ― David Alejandro Fearnhead.
Our body is amazing, and most of us have an adversarial relationship with our bodies, you heard about mine in yesterday’s lesson. Only look at it for one thing—how does it look? Yesterday I talked about the messages we received growing up and culturally linking body size to worthiness, but our bodies are much more than a size. They are a miracle. So to continue answering the question from yesterday, How can I have a relationship with something I want to change? Today I want to continue to share how I am changing my relationship with my body from only thinking about its size to a relationship of appreciation and gratitude.
This story is similar to the experience of telling my therapist, Annie I was leaving her practice I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing as if it was yesterday. But it was actually about 20 years ago, and I was driving in my car, headed to visit a friend about 2 hours away, and listening to the latest self-help author that I thought would fix me. He (I don’t remember who it was specifically, just that it was a man) was talking about accepting yourself and your body no matter what and that a practice his wife had started engaging in was to thank her body parts. I remember being fascinated thank my body parts; hmm. So when I got home later that weekend, I tried it, standing in the bathroom going through my body parts, thanking them for being there. Mostly I felt silly and like I was going through the motions of appreciating my body. Later that week, I tried standing in the shower, going through my body parts, and thanking them for being there. But again, I didn't feel a connection with my body. I just felt silly No change. It felt hokey, it felt silly, and it didn’t help. And I forgot all about it.
Years later, I had just finished a long hike with a friend, and I was exhausted. Enjoying some post-hike beers, he said to me with a laugh, “I am so thankful for my legs, man—they really pulled their weight today!” Aw, I thought, yes, I am thankful for my legs too! At that moment, I linked the audiobook from years ago with his gratitude; it felt better, less hokey, and helped. That day I felt ultimate appreciation for my legs.
Fast forward to a few years ago, during a very long hike in Sequoia National Park—I was not in the same shape as I was on the previous hike I had taken with a friend. My husband and I had picked a beautiful quiet trail through the sequoia trees. It was a sunny warm day, and we had failed to bring enough water. The last mile was a real struggle. As I was walking, feeling almost delirious with heat and dehydration, I started thanking my body for sticking with it. I admit it was an exercise to pass the time and pull me out of my head which was obsessing about how tired I was and how far we had to go. As I walked, I challenged myself to get specific; thanking my toes for balancing me so well, my feet for supporting me, my abs for holding my core, my skin for protecting my body, and my sweat for cooling me. By the time we reached the parking lot, I had moved through much of my body, thanking it for doing its job so quietly and calmly.
Later that night, my husband and I floated in the lazy river near our Airbnb. My body was so sore and tired that I finally understood what that guy was talking about years ago on the audio tape—it wasn’t something I could force, but I needed to cultivate. So I did. I started appreciating my body in little ways and silently saying thank you to the different parts of my body when I noticed them. My teeth as I brush them, my heart when I feel it beating in bed after I return from a 2 am bathroom break, my neck when I feel it tightening after a long week of hunching over my desk. I am not perfectly consistent about this process—but I will say it has been a practice that has improved my relationship with my body. Rather than seeing it as an adversary that needs to be constantly controlled and sized down, I see it as the one thing keeping me breathing, eating, moving, resting, and upright in this world. Regardless of what size it is.