🧵Thursday Thread: "It's complicated!" ... how would you describe your relationship with your body right now?

It can be so hard to live in a body, even a "typical" or "healthy" one; the urges, the the secretions, the aches, the strangeness. But, also, our bodies are our only homes. Let's discuss, gently. ❤️

Friends, we had the most sacred and beautiful start to The Visceral Self intensive for embodied writing yesterday, capped off by Billie’s beautiful yoga nidra session last night. I am flying high this morning.

But if you missed yesterday’s launch, do not worry even one bit. You can start at your own pace. We have so much time. All is well, and we’re not going anywhere. Week One is right here for you.

Here, also is the video I shared of the squirrel who loved being caressed with a toothbrush, which … no one mentioned. This video might be the most precise and surprising picture of embodiment I’ve seen in a while (which is also why I chose the puppy for our photo today—animals are embodied).

What’s interesting but not surprising is how many of you said, yesterday, that you have not felt so connected to, so aware of, your physical bodies in a long, long time. And … you liked it. You liked it! That came as some surprise to many of you, because, well, our relationships with our bodies are often complicated.

And that’s why, while I loved (loved loved loved) last week’s Thread on the films that moved us—what a joy that was!—I want today to make space for a slightly more tender conversation. But, it need not be wise or deep or highly personal. We work gently here at Writing in the Dark, as I hope you now know.

So, the question is simply, “How would you describe your relationship with your body right now?” Maybe it’s complicated, maybe it’s distant, maybe it’s comfortable, maybe it’s uncomfortable.

This may feel like a very personal question, and of course it is, but it can be approached with as much intimacy or lack of as you wish, as briefly or as in depth as you wish (or not at all, of course).

As for me, you know how I said recently that nothing, not one single thing, awakened and enlivened my writing (and my life) more than embodied writing. But before I could truly practice embodied writing, I had to, well, make space for my body in my life by increasing my awareness of my body. I had to learn (am still learning) my own body.

My own journey with embodied writing started around 2010, when I first began practicing yoga regularly. By this time, I had already studied with Paul Matthews, and had discovered the power of constraints to unlock wildness in my work. Embodiment definitely amplified that wildness.

Then, I completed my teacher training in 2012, and published my first difficult work about my childhood, including my stepfather’s abuse, in 2015. Embodied writing does not need to lead to writing abuse stories! Not at all. If you did yesterday’s exercise, you know that. Embodied writing starts with letting ourselves know our own bodies. Before I began my embodied journey, I didn’t necessarily hate my body, I just kept her a bit at arm’s length. Like an aunt who lived out of town.

Now, 12 years later, I might describe my relationship with my body as more like a sister, or a twin. I won’t claim a perfect, unified relationship with my body. I am not sure that’s available to me in this lifetime, given my history of early childhood sexual abuse. That crack is deep indeed. But I inch along, softening each year, sensing my body more, trusting her more, and setting her more free. I suppose in this way my body is also becoming like a beloved child to me. In any case, I share with you my imperfect and complicated relationship with my body to assure you that practicing embodied writing does not require a perfect relationship with physical self. If it did, I would be excluded.

And I’m not.

So, neither are you. I promise.

Mahatma Ghandi said, “The human body is the universe in miniature. That which cannot be found in the body, is not to be found in the universe. Hence the philosopher’s formula, that the universe within, reflects the universe without. It follows therefore, that if our knowledge of our own body could be perfect we would know the universe.”

With this in mind, tell me if you like, what is your relationship with your body, right now? You can do what I did if you like, and create a metaphor (the aunt who lived out of town) and extend it if you like. Or you can be literal. Whatever feels right, is right.

Sometimes, knowing where we are starting can shine a light on the rest of the journey.

Love,

Jeannine

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