I am not exactly sure of the moment when I stopped living in my body. For a long time I viewed it as just another thing to survive. My stepfather’s sexual abuse, the physical abuse endured from my children’s father, childbirth, weight gain, fatigue…all these things my body survived.
There is an old adage that says “Familiarity breeds contempt.” My body became very familiar to me. I certainly had no respect for my physical being. In my perception, my body was only a symbol, a reminder really… of what I suffered at the hands of others and my own insanity.
For many years, it was too painful to be present in my body from the neck down. It seemed easier just to live in my head where I could dream of being anybody….anybody…but me.
It was a long time before I gained the courage to “be in my skin” and to treat my body as something other than the thing that carried around my lifeforce.
At 43 years old, I am just starting to feel really good about all of me and to love my body as the “Temple” it was created to be.
What a wonder that my temple has stood so long without me loving or appreciating the gifts that it has given me!
It has endured, it has been sturdy and uncomplaining. It, in fact, has survived my ignorance of it’s loving purpose. It has certainly been more loyal to me than I have to It over these forty plus years.
And so I come to a time when I am ready at last to worship at the Temple of My Familiar…not with contempt, but with adore and with gratitude!
I am ready to live in my skin and experience the freedom and the power within the doors of this Holy Place!
At last…I am ready…and I celebrate!