The Desire to Fix Myself

When I left the legal profession and ventured to Europe in 2013, I was living from the head up, disconnected from the throat down.  I prized mental intelligence over emotional intelligence.  Slowly, I began to drop down and in.  To feel.  To intuit.  To experience deep pleasure in the moment. 

My intuition guided me across Europe.  After two weeks in Paris, I flew to Berlin, Germany.  It wasn’t because I wanted to see the Berlin Wall – though it was an amazing experience – but rather because sign after sign pointed in that direction.  The city kept coming up in conversation.  The name popped up at the most random times.  Little did I know, the woman I chose to stay with was a soul sister. 

Her name was Kristen.  We stayed up the first night, seated at her small round kitchen table, drinking tea until two o’clock in the morning.  Kristen was studying to be a bodyworker who specialized in small, micro-movements to unlock trauma and tension.  The next day, I scheduled a session with a certified graduate of the school. 

At first, I wondered what the purpose of it all was.  I’d received massage before, and they usually pressed down hard on my muscles.  This practitioner barely touched me.  My head was turned slowly in different directions.  It was all so … subtle.  My mental mind wondered how it could be accomplishing anything worthwhile.  Didn’t we need to use force?  To control or dominate the body in some way? 

Only later did I learn about the subtle energy body.  Or about how the body often responds more to gentle, specifically targeted movements than big wild ones.  This is not to say that big wild dance moves are a no-no.  Quite the contrary.  I still love those.

After a week in Berlin, I flew through Paris to catch a train ride to Chaterrault, France.  I decided to spend two weeks on an organic farm.  My only prior farm experience had been picking green beans as a volunteer when I had a CSA membership (“Community Supported Agriculture”).  It was tough work!  I vowed never to complain about the price of green beans again.

Needless to say, farm labor is much more physically taxing than sitting at a desk all day.  I was worn out.  My low back hurt from bending over for several hours.  Yet, an inexplicable joy came over me while I whacked the grass out of the earth to expose brown, crumbly soil underneath.  Sweat dripped down my nose as I stopped for a minute to look up at my surroundings.  Sunflower fields waved their smiling faces just behind me.  Blue skies greeted my eyes. 

“What would they think if they saw me now?” I wondered.  My whole body was covered in dirt.  I looked nothing like the “bulldog in a skirt” prosecutor they had known just a year prior.  I lived closer to the earth than ever before, and it left me with ecstasy in my veins.  My mind and body worked together, not against each other.  I could feel everything more intensely. 

The owner of the farm, Dina, was a dance instructor and artist from Belgium.  Each morning and evening, she invited us to practice with her.  We learned how to open our spine, relax our muscles and literally “fall into each other.”  Often, we drummed or sang after dinner.  I learned the importance of the sacrum – at the base of our spine – and began massaging it every day.

One day she looked at me and asked, “Did you feel a lot of fear growing up?”  All I could do was silently nod in response.  “I can tell,” she quipped, “from looking at your legs.”

Fear stored in my body?  What did she mean?  How?  Did our bodies hold onto memories?  Could they affect our physiology? 

Ah, the questions that began to permeate my mind over the next several years, along with the search for answers.  Rather, a search for healing.  I wanted to understand more, to know more, to experience more.  I had already spent two and a half years receiving Network Chiropractic Care.  It was revolutionary for me, as I began to connect with my own emotions.  They had been stored away, deep down, invisible even to myself. 

I thought I had already done a lot of “work.”  Shouldn’t I be finished by now?  Wasn’t I “healed”? 

It felt somewhat disappointing for my ego to learn there is no endpoint.  My body is a living, breathing organism, far more intelligent than I can fathom.  To think that I could just magically make it “static” or “complete” was rooted in fear.  Fear I would never be “healed,” which I equated with being “fixed.”

I wanted to “fix” myself.  To make myself better.  To get rid of imperfections.  Which means that I saw my experiences with trauma as “imperfections.”  They made me “less than” or “not good enough.”  I desired to be “pure” again.  My eyes begin to well up with tears writing this.  Oh, how much love I hold in my heart for those parts of myself that fear being unlovable. 

Unknowingly, I had accepted the belief that my nature was corrupt, and I had to become pure.  That I had to cleanse myself and make myself holy again.

I had accepted a lie.  A very, very big lie.  It took several more years to finally see through the lie to the truth: I am already pure.  I am already holy.  The only thing I had to “cleanse” was my vision.  My eyes needed to learn how to penetrate through my form to what lay beneath: Love.  Unadulterated, all-encompassing love.

It is with great excitement that I announce the unveiling of my first online course:

Reclaim Your Body as Holy.

Join the circle beginning October 20, 2020.  Check out more details here. 

This Thursday, I’ll be talking live on Facebook at 1:30 p.m.: Are you ready to be free? Find out why facing your subconscious beliefs is the key to releasing bondage.  Watch here!

Until then, let me know how you’re doing.  What is your relationship with your body?  What struggles and obstacles do you face?

© Jessica Falcon 2020.