I’m almost 30 pages into my thesis talking about disability liberation, so allow me to indulge myself a bit by blogging about not just a topic I’m extremely interested in, but also one that impacts me personally. Today is an especially rough flare day for my chronic illness/disability. Honestly, with this wild weather we’ve been having since March, the stress of this year has been rough on my chronic illness, and I know I’m not alone.
I was involved in neurodivergent, mad, and disability liberation long before I learned about liberation theology and body theology in particular. I’ve long believed that all bodies are manifestations of the divine or the universe, call it what you’d like, and this includes disabled bodies. When we think about divine bodies, whether it’s a capital-G god or gods plural from any culture on this planet, all the way from daemons and demigods to angels, very few of them are depicted as disabled. In fact, if you judge by classical art, other than the parts of statues lost to age and time, it’s clear to see that the original depictions of these people were perfect in body and form. There are disabled deities in many of the world’s pantheons, but let’s be honest, they often don’t play the main roles. I’d vote Odin is one of the exceptions as the AllFather.
What’s divine about not feeling well, I ask myself on a day like today. What’s divine about aches and pains that keep me from moving well or wanting to move at all?
Without diving into language that could be misconstrued or used as inspiration porn, I think understanding the limits of our bodies, the way that our energy and abilities often wax and wane (like the moon or the tides) is a very divine, very universal experience. We do not know if the rocks cry out as waves crash against them, wearing them away grain by grain, pebble by pebble. We do know that animals feel pain, can be injured in the course of their daily lives and activities, and still often thrive. Older individuals might eventually be abandoned or isolate themselves, but quite often, as I’ve experienced in my own herd, the herd will slow and wait for one who struggles to keep up.
Sick bodies are divine. Disabled bodies are divine. Chronically ill bodies are divine. Part of body theology is discovering the ways in which your body is divine.
