Yesterday I took a nap at the house where I was house sitting. (Today was my last day.) And whereas the nap was wonderful, I was up until almost four this morning. First I exercised. Then I read. My brain wouldn’t turn off. Eventually I passed out, but then I woke up to go to the bathroom (I’m over thirty), then to let the dog out. Finally, at nine, I stopped trying to go back to sleep. Instead, I made breakfast then read a book while I did laundry, then I started packing. This is one thing about house sitting I don’t like–moving all my things in, moving all my things out. Granted, I could just take one bag, but I’m gay.

Gay men have–so–many–bags.

While staying up last night I listened to a podcast about somatics. As I understand it, somatics is a mind/body approach to healing that encourages tuning into outer and inner physical sensations. Here’s another way of explaining it. Recently I asked a friend, “Where do you live in your body (your chest, your head)?” They said, “I try not to. Like, if I have a pain, I ignore it.” I get this. My go-to response with pain is to push passed it. To hyper focus on whatever task is at hand and hope the pain will go away. But because everything I’ve been reading and leaning about lately (like somatics) has encouraged drawing closer to and even welcoming your pain, I’m doing my best to change this habit.

In my experience, drawing closer to my pain doesn’t always make it go away, but it does make it less than it was before. I suppose one reason for this is because when I’m in pain, there’s the pain, then there’s the fear I have about it. For example, my shoulder has been hurting for months now, and when I get in certain positions, I automatically tense up in order to protect myself. Of course, this doesn’t help my tension headaches or encourage relaxation. But by drawing near and approaching my pain with curiosity, the fear I have dissipates. The tension lessons.

One somatics exercise the podcast recommended was to either sit or lie down and simply notice how your body feels. Is there more pressure on one side than the other? Then notice if you’re uncomfortable at all and if there’s any way you could adjust to feel even slightly better. This was the best thing for me to hear, since I often force my body into uncomfortable positions for the sake of better posture. However, according to the podcast, creating unnecessary tension or pain, for any reason, triggers the body’s sympathetic nervous system, which is associated with fight or flight mode. But if you can position yourself in such a way as to alleviate tension or pain, you can trigger the body’s parasympathetic nervous system. Consequently, so the theory goes, your body will relax on its own.

As last night was the first time I tried this technique, I can’t speak to it definitively. That being said, I have been playing around with it for the last twenty-four hours, and it works as well as anything else I’ve tried. For example, I normally carry a lot of tension in my right neck and my gaze is ever-turned in that direction. Because I obsess about it, I often force myself to look straight on. (This always feels like a fight.) But last night and today I’ve been letting my neck go where it wants to. And here’s the cool thing–not only does my neck feel better, I notice that my entire upper body relaxes and my breathing deepens. It’s like this chain reaction. Calm down one part of the body, and other parts follow.

This afternoon I got a haircut from my friend Bekah, who was babysitting her nine-month-old grandson. After the haircut was over, I thought I was about to leave, but Bekah got a phone call and–just like that–handed me her grandbaby. Y’all, he was the sweetest thing. Often children cry when I hold them, but not this boy. He just hung out. Anyway, I’ve been thinking about how smart babies are. Not because they pee on themselves, but because of the way they move, sit up, crawl, and walk. No one has to teach them. They just know what to do. Said another way, their bodies just know what to do.

This is something I’ve really been working to get back to–the inherent wisdom of the body. For so long, because my body’s been sick or in pain, I’ve made it The Enemy. I assumed it hasn’t had The Answers. Consequently, I haven’t been fully present in my body. I haven’t been fully present FOR my body. And yet still it’s continued to work for me, to do its best. Now, as I do my best to approach it as one would a long-lost friend, I absolutely believe it has much to tell me. The Answers. As much as I believe a gay man has many bags, I believe the body has many secrets, secrets it’s willing to share if we will simply draw near to it rather than push it away. No, we don’t heal by pushing any part of ourselves away.