The siding crews are still banging away, though thankfully they have moved on from our townhome. Since the work has been going on, parking spaces near our place have been at a premium, and I had to park my car quite a ways up the street after visiting my physical therapist (PT) this week. Large trucks were stationed in the driveway and even the visitor’s slots across the street were full. There was a curb to straddle where I parked and I knew it would be a struggle to get out of the car. As if that wasn’t enough, when I cracked the car door open, I saw a small white dog burst out of its owner’s grasp and start barking and charging my direction. I quickly closed the door ‘till the owner got the dog under control.
When it looked safe, I again opened the door, straddled the curb and slowly got out of the car. As I made my way down the long hill to our house, I could hear my physical therapist’s voice coaching me not to walk with fairy feet, but to walk like I meant it.
I heard someone yell and I looked around to see it was the dog owner’s husband sarcastically asking if I was going to make it. I knew his was not an expression of care or concern because as he spoke, he put his hands and arms out in a waddling-type gesture. This was clearly an effort to make fun of how I was walking. I was furious. I gave him a look. He proceeded, seemingly oblivious to my hostile non-verbal communication, to ask how I was. I gave him another mean stare and walked on. I didn’t speak.
I tried to push down a feeling of shame that I felt sneaking in. Shame I myself have felt about my posture. It was as if the man had expressed my feelings about myself and this made me madder at him and at myself! I don’t want to be mean to myself anymore, I thought, and almost said aloud:
“I’m now eighty years old. I don’t have to be nice to anyone who is making fun of me. Furthermore, I don’t have to be mean to myself anymore.”
I decided to listen to my PT’s voice and make it louder than my old, prejudiced voice.
The man who chided me about how I was walking hurt my feelings. But he also, probably unknowingly, expressed aloud my inner voice. Hearing and seeing it outside myself, I suddenly recognized how prejudiced it was to feel shame about my physical body. It’s gotten me through so much.
IMAGE: I’m pretty certain I was feeling inspired to walk like I meant it thirteen years ago. When this picture was taken (August, 2012)., I was realizing one of my life’s dreams: to walk in the woods regularly.
