Front and center
When life gives you the opportunity to put yourself first and other tales of wild-bodied caregiving, motherhood, and life.
It’s almost 4pm on a Friday afternoon. My computer will go off in an hour or so, like every Sabbath, and my daughter and I will light the candles ushering in at least one evening of pause upon our path.
What comes up for me when I think about this - tonight - is that I don’t actually remember last Friday night. (Though I’ve had some flashbacks throughout the week.) Whispers to a nurse named Justin for more pain meds as I woke up from emergency surgery with one less organ on this new-old journey with chronic conditions that keep all of us on our toes ‘round here. The surgeon who told me point-blank she’s never seen a gut like mine, also a fuzzy memory on the periphery of my precious brain. I believe I read a comment from one of my friends on social media about how trauma changes our bodies. Why yes - yes it does.
Sometimes it’s nice when someone reminds us of where we’ve been.
I mean, it’s not like I don’t know there has been trauma. And yet, as I read through the hundreds of pages of naturopathic resources for gallbladder removal recovery, not a single one gives me (or any other wild-bodied soul) a bit of grace for the why behind the way forward.
So, let me tell you what none of these posts have not:
Your body is freaking brilliant.
As recovery continues to be completely non-linear, I’ll be returning to these words I journaled just a few days ago… often. (Please don’t ask me when I wrote them.)
Our bodies are score keepers, attentive to safety and waiting for us to acknowledge how we'll keep going, beloveds. Even the bodies that have milked ease out of madness want to survive, I think. Like the babies we do life with and some of us birth, we are brilliant survivalists. We'll chew off a paw to run free.
Maybe they’ll stir up a reminder of the primal in you, too.
And, when your body demands to survive even as the mind is thinking it’s perhaps a terrible idea, notice the power that is there beloved. Within your cells, the ever-wise, spectacular you.
Until we meet again, my wish is that you choose “front and center” darling soul. Take up the space before your body gives you no other choice. And, if you’re already taking up space but your bod is screaming for a whole lot more, please come back to this note. This is the most wild ride and we must, must, must normalize it for one another if nothing else.
Sending all my love,
J. 🌻Jennifer Magnano
New here? Dear Soul Tender is a safe, sacred space where you can find conversations and contemplations for those who mother, give and grieve. Companioning the (complex) caregivers of the world, my promise here is to remind you of how to love well. Yourself, your kids, your neighbor, and the whole wide world.