The Get Up & Gos


I have Restless Legs Syndrome.

Wait!

Let me restart.

I don’t officially, by a medical professional’s diagnosis have “RLS.” I do, by the commercial’s vague and generalized symptoms have it. I’m sure if I were to take these symptoms, that both I and the commercial have in common to a doctor, they would agree that I do indeed have it and should very quickly be placed medication X which will make my vision blurry, my hair fall out and give me horrible diarrhea but, my legs will be still for the night.

I don’t actually call it RLS though; I just call it the Get Up and Gos. It starts in my toes; I get an urge to wiggle and pop them, one against the other. My ankles want to rotate and whenever they do, I feel the catch and crackle of multiple sprains from just walking or standing in place (seriously, I just fall!) My legs, they get an itch, a yearning, a burning to move now, RIGHT NOW! The reason it happens at night is because that’s when I am most able to be “reached.”

I prefer to RESPECT my Get Up and Gos rather than suppress them. I think the body knows where it needs to be and where it wants to go. Following my Gos to the nth degree has not always been possible but, when I have been able to follow it completely, it has led me to amazing people and experiences. I always oblige the Get Ups because they are always satisfied the moment you are up and moving, which I can do wherever I am.

When my baby was smaller, I would nurse her in my homemade baby wrap (the name brand is so expensive) while walking about the house, up and down the stairs, around the block. We all (my Lunabug, my body, and myself) just craved movement.

Then there are times when I will wake at 3 a.m. with the dire need to hula hoop while listening to The Wu on volume setting: loud as fuck! I let the lyrics fill my brain so my body can just tune into the music and move how it wants to. At 3 a.m. hula hooping in my underwear by candlelight listening to Wu, I find freedom, I find solace.

I love when I feel the Get Up and Gos. Some nights, they need more than just the carpet under my feet. They require more movement; they need action, they need interaction. My knees want to rub up against other knees. My feet want to tangle with another’s beneath the conversation we are sharing. My hips want to bump against the hips of other people trying to find their heart in movement.

The Get Up and Gos are about more than just your legs; they are about your Soul. Sometimes we forget to listen to what our Soul is saying. Your legs itching are just the physical manifestation of the call your spirit is making; it’s the factory setting ringtone. It needs something; sex, running, swimming, dancing, hula hooping in your underwear; it just desires to be fulfilled. Respect your Get Up and Gos.

My Get Up and Gos are a knocking, a nudge to seek, a direction to follow; something to be yielded to. I trust and follow my legs when they’re itchy, burning, tingly or electrified. These legs have carried me through the treacherous terrain that was (and still can be at times) my life to bring me to a place where I can find peace and freedom in Wu and my hula hoop. I’ve spent my whole life trying to run away and I’m grateful to find a place to run back to but, I’ll never stop running, it was bred into me.

When I was a young, I used to dream about being abducted regularly but, as a nice dream, NOT a nightmare. The idea excited me so much so, that I would play lengthy scenarios out in my head. Ones where I would be kidnapped, then my capture and I would become the best of friends! Maybe there would be a hand job or some possible social awkwardness but, all in all, a good time. I wanted to escape my mother’s house so, I would place myself in some rather precarious situations in hopes of making my dreams come true.

I would also create adventure stories from the things around me. For instance, the smoke trails that are left in the sky from certain jet planes, I would imagine that they were leaving me clues about when I was supposed to leave my house, the angle of it would tell me what o’clock I was to go. Another thing I would do is, listen to the crickets at night, following the places where they would crescendo because, that was going to lead me away from the painful, bullshit existence that was my childhood. Honestly, I look back now and I have no idea how I didn’t get abducted! We [my sister and I] grew up around a myriad of unsavory types; on paper, the conditions were perfect. Though, we certainly didn’t walk away unscathed.

As I got older and more self propelled, I would just escape to nature and I would go on long walks or bike rides to find the perfect tree to climb and sit in. Trees are everywhere in my life; in my sketch book, my paintings, even my poetry. Even today, as a adult female, I flee to the woods when I’m aggravated or upset and I just stomp about the forest like an emotionally unstable woodland Nymph with an axe to grind.

Trees are my anchor (I think); strong, flexible, adaptable, rooted, nurturing, providing. It should be noted that I do not identify with the tree, I seek to spend time with the trees . . . and the flowers and the grass and the wind and water; I identify with the butterfly. Although perhaps a dragonfly would be more accurate or maybe a hummingbird; really anything with wings that flits about. Actually, wings would definitely make obliging my Get Up and Gos easier but, I do what I can without them.

Over the years, I have been on many Adventures by just following the nerve sensations that whisper, “Go.” When I look back, I think about all the things I would have missed if I didn’t answer my body’s yearnings. Gosh, I got my nipples pierced at 16 (I got the vapors in between the first and second one but when they were done, I just loved them. I met one of the loves I my life. Actually . . . many of the love(r)s of my life; the Sicilian, Jupiter, the Pixie, the Islander, even my first. I’ve been to some great parties; ET Foam home was only 1 of the mere 2 raves that I even went to but, it was amazing! and so much fun! I’ve seen really beautiful parts of the towns I live in; things that you miss some times.

When we were old enough to drive, my friend Snotface and I would make day trips out of Sheridan Drive. We would just get stoned and drive it from one end to other, over and over, stopping at different places and bringing different people with us from time to time; we would just go. Mainly because I wanted to not be stationary and she wanted to not be at home; so it became a regular Adventure for us. It’s been years since I’ve done it and I don’t remember most of the places but, I do remember the elation my body felt when I gave it what it wanted; when I gave in . . . to myself.

That’s what the Get Up & Gos are all about, giving in to yourself. Think about how much energy and effort you put forth in a day to do something for someone else or for their happiness. Now imagine if you put that much energy and effort into yourself and your happiness. I mean even when you call in to work for just a day, because you finally decide, ‘Damn it! I’m not fucking going in today,’ you feel like the world is full of possibilities. You can do anything! Except be seen by your co-workers, go to any places within a 10 mile radius of your job, or look too healthy when your return to work tomorrow. Hmmmmm?

All the more reason to just Get Up & Go. Call in and say that you are taking a day for you. Stop kneeling before someone else, to make them happy (you know, unless . . . you’re into that kinda thing). If your body needs a day, then give it a day. If it needs a week, give it a week. You spend enough of your life giving to everyone else. Give in to your body. Give it movement. Give it freedom. Give it peace. Give it what it wants, what it needs. Respect your Get Up & Gos.

We are taught to stifle, the calls within us, that make us feel most ALIVE.
You are perfect, my loves, right now. Inside you are perfect. You were created that way. Even when you FUCK UP BIG TIME, you are perfect. Your body knows what to do, knows what it wants, and knows what it needs. So DON’T MEDICATE, APPRECIATE. Relish your body’s ability to just know and listen to it . . . and be riveted by the journey that follows even if it’s just to your living room to hula hoop.

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