The Art of Your Body

What is awakened when you think of this earthen vessel called your body? This home, created of dust, has formed cell by cell to fashion who you are today, ever evolving, ever growing.

Is it love? Is it hatred? Is it distance? Is it fear?

Many bear the imprint of a disconnected spirit and body. This skin-cloaked home, formed of dust and earth, forced to hide, stuff, and perform for the comfort of others, chiefly to quiet the ridicule of disembodied women.

For centuries, the whispers of our ancestors have been silenced, their wisdom and knowledge suppressed by the weights of oppression and patriarchy. The sacred feminine, once revered and honored, has been reduced to a mere shadow of its former self.

Our sacred monthly bleed, once a celebration of life and fertility, has been shrouded in secrecy and shame. The synchronicity of earth and woman, once a harmonious dance, has been disrupted by the discordant rhythms of a world that values productivity over presence.

Our bodies, once revered as temples, have been reduced to mere objects, commodified and exploited for the pleasure and profit of others. The vessel of our womb, once a symbol of creativity and abundance, has been treated as a mere vessel for procreation, its power and wisdom ignored and disrespected.

And yet, within this vessel, a masterpiece awaits. Softness and open posture — the brushstrokes of a divine artist. Lines on faces, silver in hair, wisdom in eyes each a testament to the story of HER.

Your body — a canvas of experience, a tapestry of sensation, a symphony of emotion. It is a creation of beauty, a manifestation of love, a reflection of the divine. A work of art ever unfolding.

She is crying out within you – the whole, healed, connected little girl, alive and free as WOMAN. If you lean into the whispers, what is she saying?

Maybe she's inviting you to dance among the willows, to feel the wind in your hair and the sun on your skin. Perhaps a dip in the creek under the full moon is in order. Or a new red dress, that spins just so.

As you listen to her whispers, remember the wisdom of the earth, the cycles of the seasons, the rhythms of the tides. Remember the beauty of the feminine, the power of the divine, the wonder of the unknown.

This unfurling, unraveling process will resurface the story of you, as it does, allow yourself to be gently guided back to the wisdom of your own flesh + blood. Your ebbs and flows, mirroring the tides, are safe to be witnessed in reverence and peace. Lean into HER. Listen with compassion and grace.

She is a masterpiece.