brain changer

Have you ever done this? Changed your brain? Intentionally I mean. Not just because you smoked too much pot in university and eroded your short term memory. But earnestly and honestly decided to make a freakin' change? Of course we all now know that we are not blank slates and we can grow new neural pathways and prune shit we don't want. And we all now know that meditation and mindfulness practice, among other things (what are they?) can help us do this. I've know this for years, I've been a practitioner for years, and I've taught this to others for years. In fact, on one 8 week mindfulness course, I could actually feel that my brain had changed. In a good way.

But it is only now, with my feeble, crouched back up against the cosmic wall, with my body waving the white flag from the inside out, that I have been forced to do something about it, rather than just will it to be different. I got sick. My body stopped working. Apparently it was in fight or flight for way too long and then finally froze, the ultimate survival tactic, shutting the fuck down because to continue at that pace (internal and external) was impossible. All systems are not a go.

I know that my anxiety is bonks, my inner critic is relentless and my rage is unchecked. I know that 'meditating' and 'positive thinking' and 'taking in the good' and 'savouring' and 'sky gazing' (though maybe not navel gazing?) changes brains, reduces stress, makes one less of an asshole. But apparently all of the things I was doing to solve the puzzle of me were just shadow boxing because you can't heal the body if it's in a stressed state. Huh. Imagine that.

So now my days consist of actually slowing down. For realz. Of inviting my inner critic over for a glass of red wine at a late lunch. Of just.lying.there. Listening to the birds. Or my neighbour's blasting rock anthems. Of catching and changing the terrible thoughts about myself that perpetuated the stress hormones in my body. Of intentionally engaging my parasympathetic nervous system to change my physiology. Of breathing from my belly, not from my throat. Story follows state, yeah? My epic inner-monologue of not-ever-good-enough and having-to-be-on-alert-so-I-or-my-husband/friends/family-don't- die can simmer down now. (Simmah). Because in a healing state, when my body feels spacious and expansive (not fat) and like each and every one of my cells can actually exhale, well, that's when healing is happening. Not because I'm willing it. But because I'm not fighting myself anymore. Because I'm getting out of my own way. Stepping aside to let my body and brain just be. Pruning the stress state, leaving room for the healing state to grow.

Bam.