Just My Head

I woke with aches. I blame my lack of water; my body does not tell me I am thirsty until it craves tea. It's been 10 days of head and neck aches. Health anxiety comes to the surface. The past four years have presented me with a few challenges. As I age, it's whack‑a‑mole.

Before all this descended upon me, I facilitated a somatic taster session for a social prescribing group. An open group of people realising they are not the people that the world told them they were.

I guided a meditation, giving people direction into the three dimensions of their limbs and torso. I asked them to lean forward and place their spacious hands on their knees. Sit and breathe into the connection, before coming to a standing position.

In the closing circle, Steve, an elderly gent who often talks about how worn out his 82‑year‑old body is, offered, "Cupping my knee that way, the pain left me. It felt easier to stand and walk. I know I am worn out, but how much of that has been given to me by the doctor?" Steve's revelation resonated with me. How much of our pain is given to us by the system that claims to heal?

Ten days in with my head and neck pains, I sat and felt into them, feeling the neck from the inside out. With this effort, the pain did not leave me, but its hum reduced in volume. Faith gained in self‑care. As time passed, opening to the now. Finding evidence of it from others through connection can only promote a deeper life of ease.