I am writing personally from a place of deep gratitude this month. After some focused output this spring for work and around my mother’s decline, my body wilted. I took deep note, and have been lucky enough to have the option and window to erase engagements on my calendar for several months. I set into the summer with waving blank pages before me, asking myself, “What will I attend to during these precious months.” And my body answered, “Me!” And I said yes.
This note is indeed about silence, a stepped-up practice of listening below the noise—mostly my own cacophony of should’s and ought to’s born of habit, honorable duty, commitment, and survival needs.
It has been days and weeks and months now of deep listening to my body, respecting what she knows, and acting on what she wants.. at least boldly and unequivocally putting it out there, with no hedging out of concerns for judgment from others and myself. The consequences are part of the path. My body is number one. She is smiling, and doing cartwheels as I write. I can safely say that my relationship to the feminine is one and the same as my relationship to my body. None of this is new or news to me, but over this year it has sunk into new depths, aided by life’s circumstances.
I’ve treated attention to physical wisdom as a discipline and have humbly followed her lead even if I didn’t feel like it. It comes down to the nitty gritties of what I eat, when; of ways I move and exercise; of how I move sexual energy; of what I wear, and when I go to bed; of how I attend to the circle of beloved friends and family who have serious health problems close-in. The more I listen and respond to her knowing, the more she speaks to me. Sometimes it is physical, like,”Your poison oak wants to be in cold water, so jump in this icy stream.” And steadily it is energetic, speaking in the language of image and sensation about what needs to be spoken, what my soul wants step by step along the way, what choices serve a deeper sense of congruence. And lo, things are rearranging in and around me in response to clear signals, often in surprising and unnerving ways.
I come into this chosen day of silence respectful of a “body” of women, all living in sensitive, creative, wise vessels. May we make space during this Sunday to listen personally and perhaps further afield. There is much in the earth which longs to be heard right about now. What do we KNOW?
Barbara and Peri