Bodily Song

[Anxiety - IV]

For some, anxiety is held entirely in the body. There is virtually no “cognitive overlap” associated with the experience.

My friend, Tara, tells her story:

"I woke up at 4am with a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. I stumbled out of bed and walked into our bathroom and looked in the mirror. All of the sudden, the color rushed out of my face. I clammed up completely, felt dizzy and my chest began to hurt. Heart attack? I [thought] I was dying. Nothing scary was happening around me. I had been sleeping. The night before Wade and I had sat on our porch and enjoyed some Shiner Bocks and hours later I’m in the parking lot at the ER with [what felt like a] heart attack.”

Reflecting on the experience, she said, “Our bodies are very intelligent, but where I’m from, we consider the brain the intelligence center of our bodies.”

Anxiety is incarnate language.

It’s the vocabulary and syntax of a different intelligence center.

It’s the melody of a bodily song to which our ears are not attuned.

It’s the expression of a fleshly brilliance from which we’ve been disconnected.

Our bodies have a lot to say. We ought to lean in and listen closely.
Reconnect.
And learn.