In simple, unromantic, and unimaginative terms — you are a sack of bones. You’re floating around the universe on a big rock and your body keeps all your pieces together. Your body gets sick and it grows muscle. It gets a tingly feeling when you smack your elbow and it feels cramped in economy flying from JFK to LAX.
You have your mind and body, and they talk to each other to pump blood and start sweating when it gets hot.
But there is more.
There is an entirely expanded view of this phenomenon called the human body. What if you weren’t just a bag of bones, skin, and tissues?
Imagine a world where you can tune into a library of knowledge and wisdom just by shutting your eyes. Imagine being able to ask the Siri in your head where to go next. Imagine a device that can resonate with the trees and sink deep into the waves and alert you when it’s time to leave.
Imagine an instrument so perfectly tuned that it lays out the path without you even having to ask it. Imagine. Visualize. Close your eyes and wonder what kind of apparatus would be able to lead you even when you cannot see.
The human body — a vessel, an instrument. When you clean out the gunk and polish the edges, it lights up and says “I’M BACK AND READY TO RUMBLE.” Suddenly, you remember:
This isn’t just a bag of skin holding your parts. This is the reason you are experiencing life on Earth at this moment in time. The power that created the Universe grew a new vessel for which to express itself and suddenly, you appeared.
You learned how to walk and how to talk. You experienced life through your senses and didn’t need to explain what you were feeling. You simply felt it. You were it.
Somewhere along the line, you started feeling clunky and misplaced. Your limbs were awkward, one was too short and the other felt too long. Your body grew hair in weird places and your tummy hurt when the boys were mean at school.
You didn't know it then but your body was telling you a secret. It was sending a message and forming a map. But you kept listening to your head — the voice that kept you safe and surviving. The voice that got you through algebra and prom.
And then, the remembering process begins. The body yells louder and demands you listen. It sits your ass down on the couch and roughs up the interior. It sneezes and coughs and makes noises to get your attention.
One day, you depart from ignoring and decide to listen. She says softly “Hi, it’s been some time, but I am here with an important delivery.”
I’m here to guide you, she says. I have a plan. I have a compass and it’s a little rusty. I need to ask you something, but first, you need to tell me if you’re ready to listen.
Pause. Consider. Another voice whispers — it’s time.
The instrument plays a tune. It sends a ping to your gut and an echo through your cranium. AHA!
Go here. Try this. Eat potato soup. Let go. Move on. Lean in. Tap in. Turn on.
Slow down. Take your time. Speed up. Keep going. Try again. Do less.
Messages, pings, notes, sounds, synchronicities, omens. You listen. You look. You ask questions and wait patiently for the non-English answer.
Directions come in the form of gut feelings. Affirmations are found in full-body sensations.
What’s happening here?
You remember that you aren’t alone. You recall the compass within and reset your authority figure. Now, you’re in the game.
You check the ship before putting up the sails. You receive instruction without asking and now you know the difference between aligned and unaligned.
Ego and soul are differentiated yet the latter can love the former.
Your life takes a turn.
This is what happens when you tune into the body. It awakens a new lens on life. Adds a new shade of color to your palette. Loving your body takes on new meaning. Not only do you see its beauty but you see its divinity. You love it like you love your own child or your dog — you feed it, nurture it, cleanse it, support it, listen to it.
You are in relationship with it.
It’s more than a body — it’s a symphony waiting to play your masterpiece.
Like an instrument, it needs practice. You have to play and adjust and maintain. When dust accumulates it won’t sound as good. And when you eliminate the voice of ego and become one with the instrument…
Chills down the spine, music to the ears, and vibrations that reach the sky.
You are one. Working together in harmony.
Your body is a gift. It wants to help you. It wants to guide you. It wants to teach you.
But you have to go first — listen. Tune in. Tap in.
Ask…
“What can I do for you today?”
Perk your ears, mute the TV, close the book, shut your laptop, and dig in.
Thank you for reading this piece. I love knowing who is reading my work and hearing your story, so please feel free to comment below and let me know what resonates.
All love,
BS