Simply Sitting

It was early and a layer of frost threatened to show itself, as I climbed into my car this past Sunday and pulled out of my driveway. Arriving at my destination a few minutes later, I parked and carefully zipped a thermos of coffee into my purse before walking inside the large building. I handed my purchased ticket to the taker and a minute later, was comfortably ensconced in the seat of my selection. As the lights of the vast room darkened, I leaned back, raised my newly freed cup of coffee to my hands for a sip, and spent the next 134 minutes blissfully content.  

~*~

Last January, I went to the theaters and saw a movie. I was fresh returned from a visit home and desperate for anything that would curb my mind away from the homesick sadness threatening to devour my wellbeing. When a a co-worker told me I just had to see La La Land I thought Why not?. I'd never gone to the movies alone before; I really enjoyed it. A week later I saw another movie but went to a different theater, one with those luxury recliner seats. I fell in love with those seats.

I've made many more visits to my local cinemas over the year, almost always with a contraband cup of coffee stowed inside my purse. Usually, I'll visit the Kaysville Theatre; it features films already out on DVD meaning cheaper tickets for me, but sometimes a movie looks too good to wait months for so I treat myself to a big-name theater with luxury seats. I've decided it's a fabulous way to kill a couple hours, with certain movies especially, but I've uncovered something else, a deeper benefit lurking beneath the fun.

Sitting is a struggle for me. I’ve shared that before. Since my eating disorder so graciously decided to call my brain was home, I have lived with a constant, ceaseless stream of orders that I stand all the time and move every single second of every single day. I fell prey to the lie that Relaxation = Bad, and spent so many years believing that to be true I have an incredibly hard time thinking otherwise.

I have made progress since going to Mercy. I sit more often at work. I can curl up in my home library and read for hours. I am able to spend a day in the car without dissolving into a full-blown panic attack. I still though, cannot dispense with the whisper; the hiss that underlies all those restful actions commanding me to ‘get up and walk around for fucks sake!’. (apologies for the language) It is so strongly compelling that more often than not I listen and any sitting hours are interspersed with frequent breaks to wash dishes or reorganize cabinets or even go out for a walk.

Going to the movies does wonders in helping to me to not hear those words, to discount the vicious ruse they so strongly promote. I'm not sure why, perhaps the speakers are too loud for me to hear anything else, or the fact that I know moving will disrupt others fun. It has become one of my favorite forms of self-care. A therapy of sorts,  slowly but surely helping me to re-discover how much joy can be found by simply sitting and doing nothing. That it's actually ok to sit in one position for more than 20 minutes at a time without hating yourself. That Relaxation = Wonderful = Important = Good for you!  Who knew.

So I will keep going to the movies. Not every week, perhaps not even every month, but often enough that I don't lose sight of this new (re)found knowledge. That there is peace to be found by watching a movie, simply sitting.

*~*