This year, when did you feel the most integrated with your body? Did you have a moment where there wasn't mind and body, but simply a cohesive YOU, alive and present?
I don’t know much about my Polish and Sardinian ancestors, but I get the sense that they must have been peasants, laborers, and other salt-of-the-Earth types, and that my body comes to me from them.
I am short, but not what you would call petite. My frame is small, low to the ground so to speak, but surprisingly heavy-boned. My shoulders, my biceps, and my thighs are thick, made up of sheet upon sheet of muscle. My hip to waist ratio is the perfect S curve for slinging babies and baskets.
In other words, I might appear small at first glance, but after a second look, you would see that I am strong and sturdy – a rudder, not a sail.
This is not the body we worship in this country, the rail-thin dancer’s body whose thighs are miles apart, whose limbs are long and gracious. It is easy to get caught in the web of this ideology, until I go to yoga, where my arms and legs serve their purpose, where I twist and turn and lift, where I become airborn and shed all notions about my body and just live in it.
Footnote: Yes, I skipped prompt #11 … for now. But that’s only because it is freezing frostiness here in Chicago, and when I went to yoga last night, where it was all deliciously hot and warm and my body felt at home again, I needed to write this post first. To remind myself it’s not about how you look, it’s about how you feel.