What’s Your Bounce?

Lights on lights off. Lights on lights off. Scroll, scroll, scroll, clickbait. 1234. 1234. 1234. 1234.
Keep moving so you don’t feel and think. Keep filling and filling and adding and buying and layering.
Most of us have a hunger that we are trying to fill with noise, movement, food, sex, drinks, people, chatter, social media, shopping or fill in the blank with your poison.
The things you are afraid are sealed away underneath the layers of filler, but they are still there and building power.  Can you put down your poison for a few days? You can become still and awake as you feel and take some deep breaths?
When I was tiny I bounced. Heavy, rhythmic bouncing that shook my whole little body and soothed me somehow. Usually I chose a couch, but the back seat of the car also supported my habit. The bi-product of the heavy bounce was the vocal hum and release. It was cathartic in ways I couldn’t know to talk about so young.  I would bounce for hours sometimes, wearing down that early anxiety with snaps back, over and over again. I was stripped of my dignity one Thursday afternoon. I was bouncing at a rainy red light with only Mom in the car, and I made the mistake of looking sideways at the car packed with teenagers next to us. My entire family had wrapped me in courage and safety around my bouncing habit, and somehow they knew not to discuss it aloud. But these boys began to bounce too, and I flushed that familiar hot shame. I was delivered from soothe to shame in a swift breath, and I still remember the embarrassment of it.  In retrospect, […]