My body is not an object.
My body is not a thing.
My body is not intended to be the focus of your gaze or your end-goal.
My body is a being — a living, breathing home of light… of my light.
My body is the safe space for my experience — to lend me skillful hands, sure feet, a soulful voice, and every depth of density to feel and receive.
I love the warmth of the sunlight as it dances on my skin… witnessing the verdant urgency of the tree outside my window just after a summer thunderstorm… the sound of my best friend’s laughter when she lets the judgment fall away…
My body is sacred ground —
every line and curve,
every density and space,
every layer of light.
It has been with me through every breath and every beat of my heart.
No matter how many daggers pierced it with every thought and word in the mirror.
No matter how much I refused to look.
No matter how far I tried to run.
My body simply stayed…
offering me nothing but its deepest presence…
offering its wholeness within…
offering me a boundless love.
And so now in this moment,
I let forgiveness rest in these cells.
I let grace soothe this physiology.
I let radiance unfold…
in every breath…
in every heartbeat…
I was thumbing back through a notebook I have used for many years as I have unraveled the layers of my healing… untangling my wounds and pain… letting understanding unfold… allowing myself to receive the love I deserve.
And I came across this gem from a couple years ago. I didn’t even remember I had written it. And I know at the time, it felt significant but not yet infinitely sunk in. Reading it now, I am held in the depths of my heart and soul, because I know and embody every word and layer. And I don’t take one bit of it for granted.