Let me dance
Without asking if I’m doing it right
Without tightening my belly
Without the need to be graceful
Let me be wild and awkward and free
Let me dance
Not to perform
But to feel…….
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How precious is our life
And the body that carries us through it -
This sacred vessel
That holds our breath
Our pulse
Our moments
Yet our body is only one part of who we are
Our heart
Our spirit
Are all woven together
In a dance of flow….
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This life -
My life
Has become a garden
It is not neatly planted
It’s wild in places
Soft with moss and memory
Littered with fallen rose petals
There is rich soil here….
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I do not lead you
I walk with you
Side by side
Step by step
Not above you
Not behind you
But beside you….
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How human of me
To stumble through the nuance of life
To carry the mess and the magic
Of being embodied
I am threads woven
Into something larger
A single strand
in the great turning of humanity….
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They dismiss our hard earned wisdom
As if time has not shaped us
As if we were dust on the windowsill
Not the sacred ash of a thousand fires survived…
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Presence is a choice
To stay
It is stillness
The willingness to meet ourselves
Exactly where we are
To pause in the middle of the noise
Not to fix
But to feel…..
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Do you even take the time to acknowledge this body -
To appreciate all it does for you?
The countless tiny things
That keep you alive?
The inner vitality
The steady rhythm of your heartbeat
The inhale and exhale
That carries you through your life?
Can you find a way to tend to it with care?
To meet it with attention and reverence
To honour it?
Not as an after-thought
But as the sacred altar that it is?…..
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May my suffering not harden me
But awaken compassion
May the pain I carry
The ache of loneliness
The voice of longing
Become a doorway to deeper connection…..
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Who am I now
That my children have grown?
This quiet,
This emptiness
A grief I didn’t know
Would feel like an unmooring….
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Are you living on the outside, looking in?
Scrolling through curated images
Comparing yourself
To a perfection that doesn’t exist?
Social media
Distraction
Busyness
A carousel of distorted perception
Thin, white privilege
Whispering lies about worth
Hustle culture screaming
Just keep grinding…….
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I used to wait
For someone to call me forward
To tell me I belonged
To hand me the certificate that said I was worthy enough
But no one came
And I got tired of standing in the hallway
Of my own life
Waiting to be named……
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