Because It Can Move

Day 8 of the #loveyourbodychallenge from Molly Galbraith of GirlsGoneStrong.

Reason #8 to Love My Body:  Because It Can Move

Here I am, a quarter of the way through the Love My Body challenge and already I am feeling stronger and more mentally and emotionally capable of tackling challenges than I was a week ago.  I have heard from friends and family that, in addition to happiness at seeing me blog again, that I am making a difference in others' lives as well.  Which was the whole point of doing this publicly.  So, please continue with me on my journey to a happier, healthier mental place where I am able to enjoy myself just as I am!

For as long as I can remember, my mother has complained of pain.  Whether that was pain in her foot or pain from her fibromyalgia, she does not go through a day without intense and sometimes debilitating physical pain.  It is painful for her to merely walk around the grocery store, much less enjoy the arts festivals that she loves.  It is painful for her to stay in one position or to move around.  She has had more shots to help relieve pain than I can count.  I love my mother deeply and it is difficult to see her in so much pain.  I try to sympathize and I try to understand.  But, the reality is that I can't.  I cannot empathize or even come close to comprehending what it would be like to have pain with every movement of my body.  I am one of the fortunate ones.  And sometimes it is easy to take that freedom of movement for granted.

Because I can sit on the couch without pain.  I can wander around an arts festival or walk to the park with my kids.  I can drive myself to work and back.  I can dance with my husband.  I am fortunate that I can carry two loads of laundry from the basement to the second floor without experiencing pain.  I can hike around a national or state park without needing to worry about handrails and whether or not I will be out of commission for the rest of the day.  Deadlifting and bench pressing and squatting are fun for me.   Racing my daughter to the school doors every day is something that I treasure.  I can play volleyball and feel the sand in my toes.  Even just the pure motion of stretching is cathartic.

I very frequently take all this movement for granted.  And I shouldn't.  My mom pushes herself to do both the most mundane and the most amazing things while in pain and I admire both the mental and physical strength to get through that.  While I hope that I won't ever have to endure that kind of pain, I know that my mom will be the person I will look to for the courage and conviction to guide my way.