There’s a strange kind of grief that comes with insight. It’s not necessarily grief for what I’ve lost physically, but for the constant, exhausting consciousness of myself.
Driving to yoga with a friend, I tried to explain this frustration out loud. I confessed how I sometimes watch other people with disabilities who seem so uninhibited and joyful, and I admit to feeling a horrible guilt because I am jealous of that freedom.
I know I am fortunate. I am cognitively intact, I understand nuance, and I can reflect deeply. Yet sometimes, that awareness traps me. It feels like I have a vibrant, internal world but I’m constantly trying to show to others around me.
I did feel awful when I told my friend this, like I should be more grateful and less frustrated.
Then she asked me simply, “But don’t you have joy though, Em?”
And the answer is a resounding yes. I absolutely have bucket-loads of joy. However, frustration and joy can coexist. Gratitude and grief can sit right beside each other. As we kept talking, I realised I envied people who could dance like nobody was watching, or sing at the top of their lungs without a care who hears it.
The uncomfortable truth hit me then. I think that even if I didn’t have a disability, I’d probably still feel this way sometimes. Maybe this isn’t just about disability, maybe this is about adulthood.
Somewhere along the way, we learn self-consciousness so well that it becomes second nature. We stop taking risks that could lead to embarrassment and we care more about being polished and controlled. We learn to observe ourselves constantly instead of just existing.
Today in yoga, I decided to try a posture I rarely attempt because I usually care too much about what others will think if I fail. And I absolutely stacked it! I head planted in the front row, loud enough for everyone to notice. For a split second, I felt mortified, but then a liberating thought crept in: who cares? When my teacher checked on me, I just smiled and said, “Yep, I’ve had brain surgery. That was nothing!”
The truth is, I think many of us are secretly jealous of people without inhibition, not because they lack awareness, but because they possess a freedom we’ve talked ourselves out of.
So this is my reminder to risk looking silly. Try the yoga pose anyway! Life is hard enough without imprisoning ourselves in other people’s imagined judgments. Real freedom isn’t the absence of insight; it’s having insight, and choosing joy anyway.