On My Body and Expanding

I used to think antagonistically toward what Beings or laws of nature crafted my body and that of my sisters'. We suffer bleeding and cramping that lays waste to hundreds of unfertilized eggs, some of us women suffer bimonthly from mittelschmerz, the pain of ovulating, and some of us suffer even more from polycystic ovarian syndrome.

And that's all before we actually have kids! You know, the ones most of us carry, birth, and feed from our flesh?

I wish I were untethered from thoughts about my body's shape and instead focused on my body's function. But, again, we live in a world where men are visually stimulated and women are visually less and less "appealing" after we bring children into the world. Of course, if the world were run by women, we might become more appealing with age, but since the standard of beauty for women is to look as though we've never passed through puberty and the standard for men is to look aged and rugged, there lies an impasse for us ladies to gradually fade into an unremarkable phase in this telestial world.

Since having children--a feat of which I often fail to comprehend the miraculous nature--I've looked at my body more critically than ever before. And being in quarantine without the motivation/routine to stay on top of any aspect of my life hasn't helped matters either. The shelf that falls over my hips will never tuck back up naturally. The marks where my skin has been pulled taut and then released like kneaded bread dough gleam sharply at me, still so dark that I can see them through my white undergarments. And as I age, I find it easier to line my face and arms with extra face and arm by the mere glance at a chocolate--which does not deter me from eating five more. The harder I train my body, the harder holds on to something I've been trained to despise.

On a film set months ago, several of us looked at our horoscopes--not just what sign we are, but what moon sign, ascendant sign, etc. It was silly, but also slightly sobering because everyone's detailed charts ended up describing their personalities and even physical characteristics quite accurately. Mine was less specific and descriptive, which of course, was disappointing. But I do remember that my ascendant sign was Sagittarius. My rising sign was ruled by the planet Jupiter. It outlined that because Jupiter is known for expanding, my personality was drawn to restlessness, and even my physique was prone to expand. That has stuck with me ever since. My soul and my body are drawn to expansion.

The Mother I know does not recognize such abhorrent systems concerning my body. Since my quest for Heavenly Mother began in earnest, I've felt a kinship with Her in my bones. My blood. My body. I have truly felt made in Her image. It has caused me to think differently of the constructs this world has placed on my personal temple.

The delightful Instagram account Womb Sisters has been posting a series on menstruation and menopause. If you've stayed with me this far, stay further because it is incredible. I'll share two of their posts here:

I want to present to you the idea of “wise blood.” Before we really knew what conception was all about, some cultures believed that menstrual blood was literally the source of life-giving powers, and that a woman’s choice to retain that blood (and therefore not have a period) was, in fact, the source of life. Although we now know the vital role of sperm, this isn’t totally far off. 

Our menstrual fluid is a balance of blood, cervical mucus, vaginal secretions, and endometrial tissue which at the most basic level is a complex composition of minerals, proteins, fat, and sugar. Each of these elements came from the Earth, and so we get to be carriers and purveyors of the Earth’s wisdom. In addition, menstrual blood includes the unfertilized egg, containing not only the genetic material of your ancestors, but also of the future generation. This blood is a very powerful, and very wise substance. 

As it concerns menopause, the concept of “wise blood” changes the paradigm from being seen as a loss (of fertility, vitality, or hormones), to being seen as an increase in power, a retention of the source of creation. 

By incorporating this understanding of wise blood, we are able to channel something that is divinely appointed, and patterned after a Mother who is teaching us Her ways through our body. (Rachel Twelmeyer)

As someone who detests the burden I've been given of a monthly menstrual cycle, the mid-monthly ovulation pains, and to top it all off, the societal disdain for something in my body over which I have absolutely no control, this shook me.

My body is made up of the elements of this earth. Mother Earth. And the pieces I release inside me are the whisperings of generations before and to come.

Artwork by Caitlin Connolly

Artwork by Vanja Vukelić

What a beautiful insight!

Instead of despising this occurrence (while not altogether in love with its effects), I can look at the process inside me and learn what my Mother is teaching me. Could She have chosen Her daughters to be endowed with such processes for reasons full of Wisdom? Thinking about my body in terms of it being an intentionally crafted temple has given me pause and a refreshed gratitude for my experiences. What could my Mother have in store for me? Is the answer whispered in the lining of my womb?

A second post:

Menopause: Stepping into our Agency

At the onset of menstruation, hormones begin ebbing and flowing in cyclical rhythms to protect, build and renew to prepare for the possibility of bringing new life to the world. But as we reach the edges of midlife things begin to change.

Anciently, these years are known as the Wisdom Years. "The woman in menopause, who is becoming the queen of herself, finds herself at a crossroads of life, torn between the old way she has always known and a new way she has just begun to dream of..." (Dr Christiane Northrup)

We are no longer protected by a choreographed surge of progesterone and drop of estrogen followed by a cleansing. As this change takes place, our brains literally rewire. Our health hinges on what we take in and how we let go.

For many, its the first time we realize our choices are squarely in our own hands. Not in the hands of our leaders or spouses or children. Our Eternal Destiny is ours to work out with our Savior, who, if we let Him, gently reminds us that “we began with Her.” Make no mistake, this process was never meant to be easy. Growth never is.

We are taught in Ecclesiasticus 6:22 “For wisdom is according to her name, and she is not manifest unto many.” Mosiah 8:20 “…for they will not seek Wisdom, neither do they desire that she should rule over them”

It is our human nature to resist change, but our spirits can choose to heed the call of our changing minds and bodies.

"Time is growing short. 

There are unexplored adventures ahead of you.

You can’t live the rest of your life worried about what other people think.

You were born worthy of love and belonging.

Courage and daring are coursing through your veins.

You were made to live and love with your whole heart. It’s time to show up and be seen." Brene Brown

My dear sisters, "You Began with Her and She continues with you." (Shelley Swapp)

Woof!

What a statement, mm? We not only possess a deeply spiritual power inside our bodies, but as we age, our bodies are not losing that power, but instead, harboring it. Shaping the divine inside of us as we can now fully reclaim that for which we are destined. Perhaps that is what I fight against so much in my own life. My own Jupiter inside of me causes a restlessness, a need for something bigger. In the midst of my immediate obligations, I often see these desires as selfish. What kind of world would we have if everybody abandoned their duties and ran where the wind took them? But what kind of world would we have if people didn't do that to some extent?

Artwork by Brooke Bowen

I am reading a fascinating book right now by Sue Monk Kidd called The Book of Longings. The narrator prays to God, "Bless the largeness inside of me, no matter how I fear it."

I am trying to make peace with my body's stubborn will. It is as stubborn as mine. But I also know that my children love to nestle into the soft folds of my belly when we read together. I know that I feel more powerful as well as kind when my body is strong instead of skinny. I know that the lines starting to mark my face tell a story. I know that the marks that happen in my underwear behind closed doors also tell a story, though that story is woven with thousands of women's stories before mine who had their own largeness inside of them. Maybe my Mother is trying to teach me divinity not only through my womb, but through my wrinkles, slowing metabolism, and on and on and on.


I know my Mother gave me my largeness. And while my body and spirit will someday be perfected just like Hers, I know She is in me as I am.