Weight has been on my mind, of late. Perhaps, it's because of the return of my curves. Ironically enough, since moving into the Hive almost exactly one year ago, I've been dancing less and sitting more. Thus, my ass has expanded (and so have my thighs and my belly). And, I don't mind. In fact, I like it. I enjoy that this body of mine can take on and let go of weight. It feels natural and healthy.
When my BodyMind does try to guilt me into feeling some sort of malcontent because of the shape of my container, I just always remember how I USE it. In the end, how I move this body through time and space far outweighs any trivial notions of what it "should" look like. So, I've been contemplating weight lately and I've been noticing how it invisibly shows up in our relationships, too. In the recent past, a few others (namely, younger men) have expressed that intimacy with me can feel "heavy." I receive their words and I can relate - I have a best friend whom I have recently moved through a prolonged period of tension with. Whenever just the two of us would spend quality time alone together, resistance - to what I perceive as "her heaviness" - would rise up in my body.
And, my feelings weren't fiction. This woman has known and does know great suffering - far deeper than anything my innocence has been privy to. Sometimes, its scary brushing up against such depth. Yet, what I am learning through this process is that this depth is exactly what creates a container for holding space. Sadness, pain, trauma and all of their residual by-products are real - no matter how much we only wish to focus on the positive. When we are in relationship with each other, we must be able to be in the discomfort of these "shadows" as well as all of the lightness and fun.
Interestingly enough, I have others in my life whose presence feels so light, so lacking of mass, that I experience our connection as superfluous and tenuous. It's as though there isn't enough gravity to maintain orbit around each other so, instead, we go flinging off into some other, new galaxy. Sometimes, I even experience this with people who's bodies are extremely pinched and thin. It's like there's nothing to grab onto, nothing that keeps the relationship in motion, but air and gas. Ultimately, I just want to chase and be chased on this great playground of Life, but without weight holding us down to the planet, there's nowhere to run.
