Dealing with the Body

You should meditate you should jog you should track your heart rate variability you should keep a gratitude journal you should do healing visualizations you should drink more water you should spend mo

Art by Stephanie Davidson, written by Rachel Katz

Here’s a fresh one for you! This goes out to all my Lady’s Illness Library lovelies 💁‍♀️💁‍♀️💁‍♀️

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The body is angry. The body can’t effectively dispel its waste. The body requires twelve hours of sleep per night. The body is attacking its own organ. The body wants something and you don’t know what. You caused this, you guess. Who else could have?

You get to work. You give the body fish oil capsules. You give the body vitamin D you give the body green tea you give the body sleep you give the body whole grains you give the body smoothies with avocado and kale. You give the body magnesium powder that tastes like lemon chalk, you give the body jelly-like bone broth from the local butcher, you give the body an herbal concoction that tastes like rubbing alcohol, you give the body molasses-tasting syrup called Strong Woman’s Serum, you give the body C8 MCT oil you give the body charcoal, oddly. 

The body remains stubbornly clogged. The blood tests show that the body is still killing its organ. You read about formaldehyde in clothes you read about glyphosate in food you read about sulfates in shampoo you read that breast milk contains traces of dry cleaning chemicals. You notice that the local dry cleaner has a sign that says VIRTUALLY NONTOXIC, you stop going there, you replace your shampoo you replace all your cleaning supplies you buy organic groceries. You read that the body could benefit from ice baths. That is one step too far for you. You can’t spend all your time and money trying to satisfy the body. You have to get on with your life. You wonder when exactly your life and the body became adversaries.

The puzzle is unsolvable. You start eating pizza again you eat ice cream you drink a margarita. The body is tired. The joy of ice cream is now cast over with the long shadow of mortality. Every slice of pizza is killing the body a little, you are convinced. You take up green tea again. You recommit to the complete disavowal of bread. The body shows a glimmer of vigor in the mornings. But it depends on the day. Now the body is tired again. The body is unreliable the body is finicky the body is exacting.

You know what needs to be done, so just do it for God’s sake. You should meditate you should jog you should track your heart rate variability you should keep a gratitude journal you should do healing visualizations you should drink more water you should spend more time outdoors you shouldn’t be at the computer for so long. Moving through the day is now an impossible project; every chemical-infused surface in your house is attacking the body, every minor daily decision is hurting the body, you are a tiny crumbling castle, you are trying to reenforce the bricks as they crack and fall but you are failing. The body dying and it’s your fault.

*

You lie on the mossy ground in a post-rain forest. Fresh sunlight cuts through the limbs of the redwoods like it was just born, burns the water off the ground with its new strength. A curtain of steam rises from the earth, unveiling a washed and sparkling forest. The air smells of rich soil, and large droplets make their final fall from the leaves, landing nearby on a log, on a distant patch of dirt, on your head. Around you at every depth the droplets touch down with a crisp, round sound that cannot be spoken and cannot be written, can only be heard, here, now. The body is pumping the body is gazing the body is inhaling. The body is feral the body is absorbent the body is wet. The body is sucking in the dewy air like a glass of fresh water. The body feels tingly, the body feels wired with lively nerves, the body feels close. 

You give the body one big cry. You let the body heave and choke. The body shakes the body stiffens the body yells. The body breathes. The body goes limp. The body expands and retracts almost imperceptibly. The body exists.

The body exists. The body has innumerable functioning parts. The body sometimes feels better and sometimes worse. The body is dynamic the body is reactive the body is mortal. The body is dying and it’s not your fault. For a moment, your body rests.

Coming soon

Essays on the women’s march, forest medicine, the infinite attempts of living, and my curved (or not?) cervix.

I’m curious…

• What are the tried-and-true methods that help your body feel better in times when it feels like it’s falling apart?

• How much of your attention goes toward your body these days? Do you wish it was more/less?

**Quick head’s up: I am on maternity leave! During this time, my wonderful consultant/collaborator Erin Shetron will be doing some light moderation, so look for her name and please keep supporting each other in the comment sections. After nearly a year of working with Erin to define and shape this newsletter, I am confident that she will bring only the best Inner Workings vibes to the conversation.

While I’m offline, I’ll be sharing updated favorites from my archives as well as some new work that I’ve been saving up - like this one! I would love to hear what you think, I am hopeful they’ll be a salve in the slow winter months.

And special gratitude (again) to all you subscribers who are choosing to stick with me through this leave. You make this whole thing work and lay the foundation for what’s to come at Inner Workings and beyond. I am sending you so much love.

XO, Rachel