Just another day in the life of a teenager
The Feldenkrais teacher is giving a workshop later this month on relaxing the face and jaw.
"That sounds perfect," I told her. "I've been clenching my jaw for as long as I can remember. I go through mouth guards about once a month."
She looked taken aback. "The workshop might be hard for you, then," she warned. "It can bring a lot of old tensions to the surface. Some people become very emotional."
Well, sign me up. I'm ready for some emotional spring cleaning. Out with the old and in with the new. I'd also like to start up a yoga practice again, if I can ever find the time. Now that I've gotten this sneak peek into the intricacies of my body, I'm eager to understand them better.
Every time I think of the Feldenrkrais class, I think back to my gym teacher from high school. She was a bit of a sadist. She gave extra credit to anyone who reported a classmate with a bad attitude. I asked her to do a yoga class toward the beginning of the school year. She refused, so I wrote her a letter stating my case. Later that week, she announced to the class that she'd read my letter to the upperclassmen and they'd all laughed and laughed. When I didn't finish running the mile fast enough for her liking, she left me circling the track. I arrived back at the door to the gymnasium to find she'd locked me out.
That was around the time I gave up on my body.
These memories spilled out of my pen during morning pages today. Curious, I did an EMDR session and thought back to the scene: Crisp spring air. Wet grass. The nausea of overexertion. I tried to come up with some positive beliefs about myself, but I couldn't get past my anger.
My muscles twitched for hours afterward, as if ready for a fight. Old tensions coming to the surface.