Moving Into a New Body
The idea for this article came to me in a dream.
It was what I call an anxiety dream, in which I’m trying to accomplish something important but encounter obstacles everywhere I turn. That’s kind of a parable of life itself, isn’t it? When I wake from a dream like that, I feel frustrated because I didn’t get to finish my dream task, but at the same time I’m relieved to be released from the endless struggle.
So in this particular dream, I was moving into a new, multi-story house, kind of like the old tenement buildings you see in dying New England mill towns. It was essential that I quickly locate and organize all my belongings so that I could use them to start an urgent and important project. Every time I carried something into another room to put it away, I would find other people there, already moving my stuff, wreaking havoc on my carefully ordered household. When I went back outside for another load of stuff, more people would be poking through it as if it was so much garbage left out to be collected and buried at the dump. These interfering people ignored my pleas to leave my things alone. For every armful I took into the house, they carried out ten.
Then my husband started a load of wash in the laundry room a few feet away from the bedroom, and the sound of the washer’s spin cycle woke me up. Thank God.
I trudged off to the bathroom, pondering the meaning of the dream. I haven’t moved into a house for 14 years, so why was I having a dream about moving house? As I made the bed and thought more about the dream (which didn’t want to leave my head just then), I suddenly knew what it was about.
My big moving project for the past 6 years hasn’t involved moving into a new house. It’s involved moving into a new body. Like any move into the unknown, it’s been both exciting and scary. I no longer have a jumbo, custom-built pantry to hold 50+ years’ worth of bad habits and warped beliefs about myself. I keep forgetting where I’ve put things, and have sabotaged my own efforts numerous times. At times, circumstances beyond my control have put my new “home” into disarray, but I’ve kept working at it, carrying things in, bringing things out, rearranging things…a seemingly endless task.
I think I’m pretty much settled now. I watch elderly people who have to work so hard to accomplish the simplest tasks – sit down, get up, button a shirt, open a jar – and remember my mom talking about the way her body had betrayed her as she aged. I suppose that could happen to me sooner or later. But for right now, I’m in a good place: my new body - the home I carry with me everywhere.
As you continue on your weight loss journey, please take good care of your body. You may not like it much now, but it’s your home. Your very own home. As it changes, you will have to learn its new floor plan. When you go to a closet to fetch a size 16 dress and find only size 18’s, you may feel so disoriented that you forget the size 20, 22 & 24’s you took to the Goodwill Store last week. As you pass through the front hallway of this new home and see yourself in the mirror, the person you see might look like a complete stranger. What’s she doing there? She’s fat, I’m not, so why is her reflection all I can see? Where did this mirror come from, anyway, the funhouse at a circus?
Don’t give up. One day you’ll have all the curtains hung, the walls painted, the furniture arranged, a fire burning in the fireplace, and you’ll think, “I’m so glad to be home.”
Wow....I finally get it....thank you for posting. ..
This is an eloquent description of us! Thanks for sharing and keep cleaning out the old and taking in the new! 
The idea for this article came to me in a dream.
It was what I call an anxiety dream, in which I’m trying to accomplish something important but encounter obstacles everywhere I turn. That’s kind of a parable of life itself, isn’t it? When I wake from a dream like that, I feel frustrated because I didn’t get to finish my dream task, but at the same time I’m relieved to be released from the endless struggle.
So in this particular dream, I was moving into a new, multi-story house, kind of like the old tenement buildings you see in dying New England mill towns. It was essential that I quickly locate and organize all my belongings so that I could use them to start an urgent and important project. Every time I carried something into another room to put it away, I would find other people there, already moving my stuff, wreaking havoc on my carefully ordered household. When I went back outside for another load of stuff, more people would be poking through it as if it was so much garbage left out to be collected and buried at the dump. These interfering people ignored my pleas to leave my things alone. For every armful I took into the house, they carried out ten.
Then my husband started a load of wash in the laundry room a few feet away from the bedroom, and the sound of the washer’s spin cycle woke me up. Thank God.
I trudged off to the bathroom, pondering the meaning of the dream. I haven’t moved into a house for 14 years, so why was I having a dream about moving house? As I made the bed and thought more about the dream (which didn’t want to leave my head just then), I suddenly knew what it was about.
My big moving project for the past 6 years hasn’t involved moving into a new house. It’s involved moving into a new body. Like any move into the unknown, it’s been both exciting and scary. I no longer have a jumbo, custom-built pantry to hold 50+ years’ worth of bad habits and warped beliefs about myself. I keep forgetting where I’ve put things, and have sabotaged my own efforts numerous times. At times, circumstances beyond my control have put my new “home” into disarray, but I’ve kept working at it, carrying things in, bringing things out, rearranging things…a seemingly endless task.
I think I’m pretty much settled now. I watch elderly people who have to work so hard to accomplish the simplest tasks – sit down, get up, button a shirt, open a jar – and remember my mom talking about the way her body had betrayed her as she aged. I suppose that could happen to me sooner or later. But for right now, I’m in a good place: my new body - the home I carry with me everywhere.
As you continue on your weight loss journey, please take good care of your body. You may not like it much now, but it’s your home. Your very own home. As it changes, you will have to learn its new floor plan. When you go to a closet to fetch a size 16 dress and find only size 18’s, you may feel so disoriented that you forget the size 20, 22 & 24’s you took to the Goodwill Store last week. As you pass through the front hallway of this new home and see yourself in the mirror, the person you see might look like a complete stranger. What’s she doing there? She’s fat, I’m not, so why is her reflection all I can see? Where did this mirror come from, anyway, the funhouse at a circus?
Don’t give up. One day you’ll have all the curtains hung, the walls painted, the furniture arranged, a fire burning in the fireplace, and you’ll think, “I’m so glad to be home.”
HealthyNewMe 1,935
Posted
So beautifully written. You're right..... a whole new house!
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