We all have wishes. Things we long for, dream about, hope of. And I believe that taking care of our minds, bodies, and spirits is a pre-requisite to living a full and abundant life. A life that is full of wishes coming true. This beautifully written client spotlight could not capture these sentiments more completely. Imagine the possibilities when your whole health comes first.
Inside my body, my wishes circle my heart like little fish. Sometimes, when there is extra desire in a wish, that wish escapes from its place and wriggles up toward my throat. The wish can no longer be contained, and it grows so big that it keeps swimming, up past my throat into my eyes, where it finally gets released as tears. There are lots of things I wish for, but there are very few that have the potency to move me to tears. In fact, lately there has been just one, a yearning I feel more deeply than any other—the hunger for more human connection.
Actually, the word “connection” seems too casual, like something you can achieve with the barista at your local coffee shop as you purchase your daily cup of caffeine. Perhaps what I am talking about can be more accurately termed “bonding,” or “intimacy.” On one level, I want friends – genuine friends with whom I can be myself, and who like me for who I am, not what I can do for them. I want friendships without unspoken rules or contingencies, where communication is direct and honest. For as long as I can remember, I’ve had this longing—for loyal, equal friendships with people who value me as much as I value them. I observe other people in their intimate pairings and I think: I want that.
Yet the notion of taking direct action is relatively new. My hunger pangs for connection are sharper and more acute than those I felt during the years that I starved myself from food. For such a long time, this appetite for intimacy went unacknowledged, sublimated with a much more easily satisfied fixation on food and body. How relatively easy it was to focus on miles run and calories consumed, rather than on developing intimacy and friendships with other people, people who would surely judge me, deem me unacceptable, and leave. This strategy of displacement worked brilliantly for many years, until, suddenly, it didn’t.
After years of working on recovery, I finally realized that all the attention I lavished on food and body would never be reciprocated, that I would always be alone unless I actively took steps to make room for other people. This new awareness marks one of the many shifts that has taken place inside me since I first made my commitment to recovery. The possibility of opening doors and cultivating relationships at once scares and intrigues me. I look forward to exploring this further.
What do you wish for?