Welcome to the last Finding Out issue of 2023! As the calendar year draws to a close and the sun begins its to return to our (Northern Hemisphere) evenings, I’m wishing you joy, connection, and the courage to rest. And I’ll see you back here in January.
She is strong, that voice in my head who says, “You'll be ok without it.”
I think she comes from a good place. She’s an echo of people who wanted me to know that I was brave and flexible and safe. They wanted me to know that whatever I was asking for couldn't be had right now, even if it would be totally reasonable and welcome another time.
But I have discovered that this voice of flexibility and resilience has overstepped her bounds. I can be sitting on the couch, by myself, watching a TV show that I like. I can have this sense feeling of, “You know, my citrus candle would make this evening even lovelier.”
And this supposed voice of resilience will say, “You'll be ok without it. Just keep watching the show.”
So I won’t move, I’ll try to focus on the show, and the citrus candle that I already have will stay sadly unlit in the drawer.
ACK! Why??
It’s such a silly scenario. I’m in control of every part of my experience in that moment, with no other humans to appease, and I still deny myself a pleasure that is completely within my reach.
I finally started to notice the absurdity of that internal voice after I took a class on sensory processing with Aleah Black, a poet known on Instagram as Gendersauce. The gentle environment and lessons that Aleah shared that Saturday afternoon inspired me to start a little exploratory practice for myself.
Sometimes in the evening, when our kid is asleep and I don’t have to be a parent, I take the time to notice what sensations my body craves.
I close my eyes, and I go through the senses many elementary students learn (sight, smell, taste, touch, and hearing) as well as the senses that Aleah told us about: interoception, proprioception, and vestibular sense.
With interoception, we can notice what is happening inside our body. Pick up a box or a stringed instrument and hold it flat to your belly, and drum on it comfortably. If you can notice that vibration inside your body, you're experiencing interoception.
With proprioception, we can notice where our body is in relation to itself. Stretch your arm out straight from your shoulder to the side, then bend your elbow so you can touch your nose with your fingertip. That’s your body using proprioception.
With vestibular sense, we can notice the movement of our body in space. Move into an open space, and spin slowly with your arms outstretched. That’s your body experiencing your vestibular sense.
Back in my living room, as I go through my sensory listening exercise, I might notice that I would love to see the warm glow of a candle, and further notice that I want to smell the bright, cheerful scent of a candle I got as a gift. I might notice that I feel cold, and I would like to have one of our softest couch blankets across my legs and rolled up in my hands. And I might notice that before I can enjoy all this, I want to shake out the residual energy from my day, my legs, my hands and even my head.
Before Aleah’s class, I am not sure I have ever listened to my body this closely. It’s a kind of listening that isn’t just noticing (and perhaps, unfortunately, hoping a noticed feeling would go away). Instead, it is the kind of listening that some part of each of us longs for when we feel hurt. It’s the kind of listening that leads to honoring and providing the environment that we need most in that moment.
And so, when I’m doing this exercise, that’s exactly what I do. I get out the candle, and smooth out the blanket, and pull up a favorite shaking video by Kim Eng.
This kind of listening to ourselves, in a world that so often wants us instead to get the work done so we can… get more work done—this kind of listening is radical self love, and eventually, community love. When we practice this kind of listening on ourselves, we gain a skill that all beings deserve to experience.
Without this skill, I think I would have been unable to notice this other part of me, my well-meaning-but-overactive voice of resilience. When she helps me get through a tough moment that I truly can't change, I am grateful for her.
But right now, she too often tells me that I can do without sensations and actions that can and need to be accommodated.
So just as I have been working on noticing my sensory desires, I have been working on noticing my “you can do without it” voice. When she’s helpful, I listen. And when she’s being too stoic for the moment, I do my best to help her step aside, so I can tend to myself gently.
Mentioned in this issue: The poet Aleah Black, known on Instagram as Gendersauce, and the class they taught, “The World is Bright and Loud,” and a shaking video by Kim Eng.