For so long, I was stuck with this icky feeling that something was missing, but it never occurred to me that what was missing, was me. I was missing—my own presence, at home in my own body.
The space inside our bodies is our home. And for those of us who’ve had a lot of difficult times in our bodies, it takes some getting used to, to feel at home in our bodies.
We may have internalized a lot of toxicity, or maybe we were punished a lot as kids and our punishment was being forced to spend time with our horrible selves all alone in a room.
Whatever the reason, the self was a place to flee, not a place to come home to.
And I became pretty masterful at escaping my body. Or, if I was stuck with myself, I’d bring in substances to keep me company, or food, or whatever else I could find.
But after awhile of this, a person grows exhausted and longs for a place to rest. And so begins the journey back home.
After taking many baby steps inward, I have discovered that being in our bodies with ourselves is not at all a punishment. It’s a privilege.
Who we are is a vast world to discover.
Our bodies and who we are, are sacred. We are the gift we’ve been given so that we can experience our lives.
We can be safe inside our bodies and take ourselves to where we want to go.
-JLK
