As I write this post, I’m sitting with a meaningful sense of body gratitude. For past versions of me that hated and resented my body, body gratitude was a foreign concept. Nowadays, I’m happy to say that body gratitude is something I settle into often. Let me share where my body gratitude comes from today.
I’ve spent the last 24 hours taking care of my little toddler, who has come down with a pretty miserable stomach bug. He can’t talk enough yet to tell me exactly how he’s feeling, but I know he’s been running a fever and that he can’t keep food down. He must be feeling terrible, because he’s been lying down all day, not even wanting to sit up. My usually energetic little boy has not moved much at all since he woke up this morning. He’s been propped up on his pillow, sleeping or watching Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood, and sometimes taking tiny sips of juice or water when I offer them. It’s honestly heartbreaking to see him like this. But this is the place where I’m finding body gratitude today.
I’m grateful for my son’s little body, which is normally healthy and strong, but today is weak and lethargic and trying its best. I’m grateful that his body knows what to do to fight this illness and that my boy is naturally responsive to his need for rest today. I’m grateful for the health he usually enjoys, and for the work his body is doing to get better right now.
I’m grateful for my body, and the way she creates safety and comfort for my little son. Even though there’s not much I can do to fight the virus that’s making him sick, I can feel the safety my body provides for him. He whimpers in his sleep, snuggles closer to me, then relaxes. His tiny hands reach for my arm just to make sure I’m still here. I’m grateful that my body lets me experience the sadness and the beauty of taking care of a sick child, of spending every moment of today right next to him, listening to his breathing, feeling his fevered forehead, and watching his sweet little face as he sleeps. My body created him. My body nurtures him. My body protects him. My body lets me witness him. My body lets me take care of him. I can feel the gratitude swell as I stroke his honey-brown hair.
This body gratitude, tied so closely to the relationship between myself and my son, truly feels like a gift. Seeing the role my body plays in this experience deepens my relationship with my body, as do all moments of body gratitude. The life I live is possible because of my body. The emotions I feel, the things I experience, the people I love, the things I learn–all of them are possible through my body. And even when I take her for granted, my body is there for me.