Sacred Activism: Remembering Our Forgotten Parts

Each day, I see more and more how the macro and micro continuously reflect one another. We hardly need to strain our minds to conjure up the metaphor—it is so clear.

The young people of our country are helping us all remember that this struggle is real, and it continues. Equality is a beautiful word written into the United States Constitution, and it is evident that it hasn’t been fully realized.

The only reason we can lift the words of George Floyd, “I can’t breathe,” and embrace them as part of our human story is because they are so real. We have been slowly suffocating. Something that we feel is the fundamental right of a human being—to breathe—has been taken with unjustifiable violence. Floyd’s murder reflects the sinister disease of hate and racism that has existed since the “discovery” of this country. The indigenous story is especially tragic—today, the traditional peoples of this land are confined to reservations, many of which are like modern-day concentration camps. When I visited Hopi territory in Arizona and was told that they were purposely given unfarmable land by the U.S. Government, I broke down in tears. 

What a strange species we are…

After this nation was forcefully and violently taken from Native Americans, it was further built through farming, largely at the hands of enslaved Africans. Thankfully, at some point, we realized that the concept of slavery is antithetical to freedom…or did we?

For here we are today, pierced by these words: “I can’t breathe.” 

They are deeply visceral, and they offer every single one of us the opportunity to think deeply about the legacy we’ve been given…and the one we are leaving behind.

The power young people hold today is tremendous. They know they need to take care of this, because the powers that be have failed them. So they are taking to the streets, organizing protests, and removing the once-celebrated statues of individuals who contributed to the systemic oppression of so many groups of people…many of whom have not received justice or reparations…many of whom have never even had their pain or trauma acknowledged.  

The next generation (30 years old and under) is majority people of color. They will continue to build this nation, and they will continue to right the wrongs of the past. But it is not their job to do the important work of facing the truth for us. It is our job to address violent oppression, and the price that all of us have paid. It’s wrong. It. Is. Wrong.

Now, let’s make it digestible and bring it home to you. Have you ever experienced suffocation in a part of your body? Have you ever had a body part fall asleep? Or experienced neuropathy (weakness, numbness, and pain from nerve damage, usually in the hands and feet) from cancer treatment or diabetes? These are just a few of the many incredibly unsettling experiences that can leave a person feeling unsafe in their own body.

Sometimes, I sleep on my arm and it falls asleep. The experience is so odd—I know that it’s a part of my body, yet it feels heavy, bordering on burdensome. As the blood and sensation start to pulse through my skin and the veins and rivers of my arms, the sting is painful at first. It feels so uncomfortable that I often wince or wring my arm in discomfort; then, I settle as I feel my arm again. I can move my arm and fingers once more. Such a sense of relief!

The body works as an integrated system, made up of interconnected dimensions. Every single part needs the other. Yet we have the ability to ignore parts of ourselves; more often than not, we are taught and encouraged to ignore entire realms of our being. In the same way, educational, financial, medical, political, and social systems can reinforce this kind of numbing, fragmentation, and inattention…which can often lead to the violence (and necessary resistance) that is being writ large on our TV screens and social media.

The main reason I have written my upcoming book, Care of the Whole Self: Yoga-Inspired Practices for Befriending the Self, is to inspire the kind of self-care that involves the whole self—because I know this is what will ultimately transform society. We must reconnect with the parts of ourselves that we have been encouraged to numb or detach from, because this is the only way that we can begin to heal, personally and collectively.  

My passion for teaching whole-self-care is my form of sacred activism. While I am not taking to the streets to protest, I am committed to being radical about genuine self-care, because it will ultimately make our world a better and more just and loving place. 

I appreciate the work of Quita Tinsley, a self-described queer Black woman, who states in her blog, Self-Care and Social Justice:

Self-care doesn’t start at exhaustion. It’s a practice to avoid it. And taking care of myself should definitely not be an incentive. It’s a necessity. I can’t avoid listening to my body for five days, give it rest and care for two, and then call that self-care. That is preparing myself for burnout before I’m even 30.

Young people, I bow to you. We need you. Be kind to yourselves, and don’t burn out the fire too quickly, as we have a long road ahead. We are now beginning to feel the tingle of sensation as we awaken together…and, to be expected, it’s a bit painful. Thank you for staying peaceful and inspiring the rest of us during this great awakening.

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Below is a short excerpt from my new book, Care of the Whole Self: Yoga-Inspired Practices for Befriending the Self.

There is a part of me that would love to create a marketing campaign across the United States, using billboards and TV ads to communicate one message: “Your Nervous System Is Under Attack—Practice Care for the Whole Self!”           

There is no doubt about it: Our nervous systems are truly under siege in the United States. I believe this shift occurred sometime after 9/11, when CNN and other networks changed the way they share news. We went from looking at one person speaking and sharing information to a continuously streaming line of text on the screen (often stating tragic or disturbing news) alongside columns to the left filled with other randomly related information. Our eyes became accustomed to scanning the screen continuously as our brains began multi-tasking at a new level. 

This shift continued to move into other areas of our lives, and the scrolling was translated to what we do when we are on social media, with so many distinct parcels of information vying for our attention. Most recently, the new shackles we wear around our wrists under the guise of a health and wellness monitor have begun to keep us in a state of constant hyper-alertness to all the things we “do.” This includes how we sleep, how many steps we take, and whether or not our activities are measuring up to our ideas of who we should be. In our day-to-day lives, when technology has become a constant source of scrutiny, everything is being analyzed and judged.  

While some of the effects of these tools might be seen as positive upon first glance (e.g., Facebook gives us the opportunity to connect with old friends, and a Fitbit helps us to gauge our level of activity), the end result is almost always a kind of fatigue, sometimes even depression and overwhelm. If it is connection and health that we’re looking for, it seems unlikely that we will find them in our current technology.

We are losing one of the greatest tools humans have: our intrinsic ability to look within, check in with ourselves, contemplate, and inquire internally. We are overly focused on external results and productivity, to the detriment of our rich internal landscape. Think about it: When was the last time you closed your eyes or looked into a mirror and simply said, “How are you?”

If you can, I encourage you to take a pause from reading this and do so right now. Perhaps you’d like to place a hand over your heart as you gaze at yourself and take three deep restorative breaths. As you slow down to simply scan your body for thoughts, emotions, and sensations, how does this feel? Are you accustomed to taking this time to compassionately be with yourself, just as a loving parent would with a child? Or does it feel awkward and unfamiliar to you? If it does, indeed, feel strange to you, it could simply be that it’s time to gradually shift your attention from your regular habits and preoccupations to coming back to yourself. I encourage setting a recurring timer of sorts that allows you opportunities for spacious self-inquiry. There is no explicit “point” to such an activity, such as weight loss or catching up on current events. However, the value of simple and consistent check-ins cannot be underestimated. They are worth their weight in gold, and when added up, you will find that they are priceless.