Your biography becomes your biology.
– Caroline Myss
Last year I had an ugly fucking mole growing above my left temple (aftereffects of radiation treatments in 1983). The family kept commenting on it and raising concerns. I have a lot of moles. I am a moly person. But this one was too visible. I would comb my hair the other way to cover it. I would reluctantly agree to see a doc and then never go.
I decided awhile back that I had the right to full ownership of my body and never again go to doctors if I didn’t want to after going through some rough stuff in the 80’s with surgery on a tumor and the long aftermath of issues after that (bad teeth, nerve signals turned haywire, claustrophobia from being strapped down for radiation treatments), watching my parents wind down and be poked and prodded during their last years, accepting fully and with so much love that I was taking care of them, not me. But my main reason for seemingly “rejecting self-care” was having experienced some severe emotional trauma that attacked my sense of self and led to horrible body image. I now fully accept the gift of my body and its crazy cricks and nuts and bolts and tissue memory from dance injuries. It’s all good. I have full ownership. I love this old skin bag.
If I need to go to the doc I will, but really nothing was making me go to address that fucking mole. So I decided to address the issue of my anxiety around it, around what I needed to address in all aspects of my life. I made up my anatomical heart journal exercise. I did it a few times. Two weeks later the mole crumbled and fell off.
HELLO! I am on to something here.
I kept doing the anatomical heart exercise over the next years but I seemed to be writing the same thing over and over again. Same issues coming up. Money, trust, low self-esteem etc.
I was stuck in a perseverating spiral. Then slowly a new mole formed just below the original spot. And I ignored it. But as I was ignoring it, I was actually building a new life. And addressing aspects of myself I had indeed been ignoring.
But oi– the mole grew uglier and bigger and again the family addressed their concerns. I couldn’t cover it anymore.
Yet I noticed my anatomical heart exercise was changing. I wasn’t writing money, trust, and low self-esteem. I was writing allow, choose, and change. And as the mole grew uglier and bigger and harder to ignore, I made a big choice. Not to go to the doc. I knew the mole was just seborrheic keratosis. I made the choice to change my situation. To leave the life that was weighing heavy on my heart and to centre fully into my art.
I did not feel authentic in my daily job anymore. And that is OK. It had its time. I gave my notice. And the mole grew uglier. But I mindmapped and took responsibility and put up the boundaries and owned the decision. The new schedule really started November 8.
The week after- this latest MOLE CRUMBLED AND FELL OFF.
Wonder what the next mole will teach me.
We are never being punished, only being taught. Everything is a teaching.
– Caroline Myss