Getting it out of your body
Mom and me (2015)
When I was a young adult, I would frequently call my mother during moments of emotional intensity. Sometimes, I was incensed about some egregious event that I’d just experienced. Other times, I was in the middle of mentally processing a failure or anxious about a negative outcome. Living in different states, all of these conversations happened across hundreds of miles. Our invisible phone lines were solidly connected. I would rant or cry or stumble to find the right words to help relay the complexity of feelings I was sorting through. Too often, the conversation would turn away from ranting about my problem and it would somehow morph into me passive-aggressively taking some of it out on her.
“Keep going, honey,” she would say. “Get it out of your body.”
This conversation between my mother and me has probably happened 2,000 times over the course of the last few decades. Some of these were issues at college or at work or with friends or family. I’ve confided in my mother far more times than my little brain can recall. But, her simple words of guidance - a mantra of sorts - were often exactly what I needed to do. I needed to get whatever I was feeling ‘out of my body.’
Talking things out, crying things out, sometimes screaming things out with a witness present and listening helped me to let some things go. Over the years, I know I’ve come to rely on her always answering her phone - 100% of the time - consistently ready to hear the good, the bad and the ugly. And, when things get ugly, her simple words flow right out of her, “Keep going, honey. I’m listening. Get it out of your body.”
Last week, someone ruffled my feathers, which is actually hard to do. I felt kicked to the curb, frustrated, and at a loss. I didn’t call my mother, but instead someone I work with. It was work related and I needed to share what I had experienced and figure out my next step. This colleague listened to every word and I could feel their nods through the phone. Afterwards, I said, “Thank you for listening. I needed to get that out of my body.” The person on the other end of the phone probably didn’t notice my little grin.
Today, I realized just how important it is to let things go - and just how hard that task can be when we go about it alone. Having a handful of people in your life who know how to open the valve within you and hold your hand while the emotional sludge is drained out is a priceless gift. Now that my head is clearer, and the weight of what was bothering me is lighter, I can let go. I can move on. The sludge has been flushed out and the other stuff in my life is waiting for me.
