Seeking Solace In Movement
Some spiritual seeking, a hard pivot, and a poem
“Safety doesn’t exist in nature, so why do we chase it so hard?” - Chase Jarvis. I don’t know about you, but I’ve sought a lot of safety in my life. Yes, physical safety, but even more than that psychological or intellectual safety.
Sure there are some folks who boldly move forward into their vision of what their life would be, and I haven’t always been that person. Or, maybe differently, the vision of what I thought my life should be, or what I wanted, has shifted through time. And at each of these inflection points, I’ve been faced with a choice: settle in or shift pattern? Stick with the road because it was the one I started on, or take the road less traveled, because, well it apparently makes all the difference.
I remember lying on my bunk bed at a camp I grew up attending, with tears streaming down my cheeks for fear of forgetting to confess some sin to God and I’d end up spending an eternity in hell, separated from God and also all the people I’d known and loved, who were (in my mind) doing it all right. I don’t want to get into a theological debate here about whether this is a correct view of God, salvation, religion, whatever. I’m just sharing to communicate how much that young version of me wanted to do it right, even the things he’d done “wrong,” and how much it hurt to feel like he wasn’t.
And throughout my own theological study, my mind shifted on what theology looks like. It overall became more expansive, more inclusive. It also included a wide range of thinkers and perspectives. I was often drawn to the Christian thinkers like Thomas Merton, a Trappist monk, who was heavily influenced by eastern religious practice: Buddhism and Zen. I’m no expert on Merton, so I’m not here to argue the merits or demerits of his practice, just pointing to this touch-point in my own religious development.
And maybe this is why as I began practicing meditation a few years ago, it resonated with me so deeply. And not just meditating, but opening to different teachings in Buddhism made sense to me. And why after months and months of fighting our daughters to get to church every Sunday and exhausting every “right” theological answer I had learned in my advanced degrees, I ended up at “because that’s what we’ve always done,” and somehow that wasn’t a good enough reason to hang in there. To put maybe too fine a point on it, that path had “Gone Dry.”
And so I took a break, which I’ve written about. And am mostly still on this break. And I’m still exploring, learning, seeking spiritually. And it’s funny because there’s still a part of me, that young part, that pops up from time to time. As if by taking this break, especially the longer it extends, the more I’m not only messing myself up, but also messing up my daughters. And sometimes, it’s not just me, sometimes other people tell me this to my face.
And I don’t have the answer here, or yet, or maybe ever. I am more and more convinced that life is about story and meaning, and more and more convinced that we as humans tell those stories in order to create meaning. We’re meaning making beings so what meaning are we making?
And even as I settle in more to the new meaning I’m making and finding those fearful voices pop up, as if I’m doing it wrong. And this is going to be a hard pivot, but one of the best ways I’ve found to settle in when I notice a pattern of mental spiral is to physically move my body.
On a Wednesday a couple weeks back, I was mentally spiraling: on work and life and parenting and if I’m doing it all right or not. And after the fact, I realized that was the one day I hadn’t done anything physically active that day, not even a walk. And trying to be active doesn’t mean I can’t still spiral, but it does give me a better chance to get out of my mind and into my body.
And it’s not just me. Someone shared the other day that they had woken up in the middle of the night with anxiety. And they reminded themselves of the good things in their life, one of which was that they were going to get to go workout with their best friend that morning.
How great is that? Yes, that there is physical movement, and also the connection of other people to movement.
There’s plenty of science out there touting the physical and mental benefits of exercise, so I won’t relay it here. But it is something that also feels very elemental and connected to our humanity: to our spiritual path and our meaning making. And for me at least, it feels good to push my body. Not every outing and not to the point of hurting myself, but to the edge, away from the safety of my couch or desk chair and further from my comfort zone.
And it has looked different in different seasons: spin class and yoga, marathon training, Orange Theory, strength training on my own, cycling, walking and rucking. And something I’m learning about myself is how much I enjoy being in community when I’m working out. I can work out alone, but there’s something about the accountability of being in a group setting, or maybe just the fact that I’m not alone in my sweating and effort.
Maybe it's another way for me to dip my toe into an alternative to seeking safety, in a group. Sure, not every day will be a push, and some days I’ll be tired. And some days I’ll wonder if it’s even worth it to get out of bed and go to the class (lately Orange Theory). But even on those days when I wonder if it’s worth it, I’ve never regretted making it to the class after it’s finished.
And each of these moments are votes for me being a person who is pushing the edges of my own perception of safety. And maybe they’ll translate back to the spiritual sphere and my continued search for alignment there, and maybe they won’t. And maybe it’s enough to find some joy at the gym.
Joy at the Gym
Can it be found here? Amidst the dumbbells and ellipticals, The resistance bands, the treadmills, The punching bags and yoga mats, No matter the flavor of your gym, Can it be found even here? In a place so soulless at times, Its attendees aspiring to be more, And to be less, bodied, Searching for the perfect plan 10-minute abs Only strength training No, running is better What about rowing? Every day a new way to get fit A hedonic treadmill with actual treadmills Yet, even here something inside knows The tough, exterior façade can break Stemming from a curve at the corner of your mouth Growing Not self-conscious because this is not self Call it endorphins or source or lifeforce Whatever it is doesn’t care about your more or less bodied-ness today It only wants to express, to move, to be alive, to live This movement is life And even in this soulless temple of self-punishment and abandonment Life longs to be lived In you Through you Why not let it break through?