Be still, my jaw

Stillness 11-16: I woke up from a dream in which I met a funny being who called themselves my Jaw Guide. “My Joy Guide?” I asked, puzzled.

“No,” they insisted, “Jaw Guide.”

So, willingly enough, I asked them why they were here and what I needed to know. I’d been grinding my teeth a lot lately and was starting to feel a bit of an earache in one of my ears. Usually, the most I think about my jaw is that we have to open it up when our throat is sore so a stranger can peer inside with a flashlight. Or we open it wide when a shrill drill has to dig up a wayward tooth. Sometimes our jaw might lock with tension. Sometimes the pain in our jaw is so bad we might even think we need pills or surgery.

In spite of its amazingness, when our jaw works well, we don’t think much about it. We regard it as a good way to chop and grind food, as though it’s just a useful kitchen utensil.

But with my jaw guide’s help, I discovered what an incredible force of energy and source of protection it is for us. The lower jaw a horizontal arch which becomes our chin—unique to humans—and which holds our lovely teeth, flowing blood vessels, and exquisite nerves. Two vertical columns, like an entryway to a palace, form movable hinges on either side of our head. The upper jaw is attached to our nasal bones, to the bones around our eye sockets, to the roof our out mouths, and even to our cheekbones! Our jaw is not just a small utensil in our kitchen—it’s the entrance to our whole house.

Without a jaw we can’t talk, meaning we can’t make decisions, assert ourselves, decide what needs to be done. Without a working jaw, even breathing becomes difficult. Any injury to the jaw is about not feeling strong. It’s about helplessness. But when we balance that warrior-longing to stand up for ourselves or for others with stillness, then our jaw works in tandem with our soul. When we balance our need to push our chin forward and be a knight, a savior, a fighter with the more quiet energies of our intuitive and compassionate heart, then everything becomes healthy and in a flow. It’s hard to breathe deeply when our jaw is clenched, but, when we do breathe deeply, our jaw relaxes too.

Our jaw is an extraordinary gateway into our bodies. It’s strong, beautiful, and essential. When our yin-yang energies are balanced, there’s an exquisite ease in the hinges, there’s a peacefulness in closure, there’s a firmness of decision with regard to what is allowed inside. Our jaw is our portal for sustenance, for exhalation, for power, and for speech.

Very gently, I felt myself reach up and massage my jaw at the hinges and along the chin. I did some soft gentle motion – almost like tiny yoga of the jaw – moving it back and forth, opening it very gently like a yawn, and then massaging gently, feeling the ache, feeling the clutter, the clicks, and then a loud ring like a bell in my right ear.

My entire body began to relax. I felt it in my toes, my fingertips, my pelvis area (I learned there’s a lot of research showing a connection with jaw with pelvis). I saw my jaw like a great guardian of the gateway into my organs, my heart, and my soul. I saw it as a magical portal to my inner being – my physical, mental, emotional and spiritual self.

So, protect your jaw, oil its hinges, honor its purpose, trust its protection, and let it soften and rest too. Don’t make it do more than it can or wants to. You don’t want to wear it out or let it become brittle. Your jaw is your ally, your guardian, your friend. It can help you decide when to let things in, like nourishment or wonder, or out, like words or breath.