I turned a blind eye to the abuse, and in doing so, made you my slave and not my partner.
I used you to mask my pain, and then resented you for not being able to recover.
For every moment of neglect and unawareness.
For throwing you into starvation when I thought it would make the world love me.
For the month of moonshine, top ramen, and peanuts, and then sprinting, bloodymad sprinting, until you hit the wall, dehydrated, throbbing, trying. Trying so hard for me.
For the lack of balance.
For the decade of birth control.
For not resting and keeping you warm when you were so defeated and ill.
Mostly I am sad for pushing you away instead of pulling you close in moments of disconnect.
I am sorry I couldn't look at you.
And mostly sad that I didn't see how lovely you are.
Thank you for harbouring my soul and my spirit, and speaking to me with such patience.
As you always have.
I am listening now.
#dearbody
#dearbody is a declaration of love, a renewing of vowels. After more than a year of traveling, I found myself disconnected. I knew all too well that despite my efforts and my practice, the constant flux and absolute lack of structure and stability had been long taking a toll on my ability to check in and l-i-s-t-e-n, and it was creating suffering.
One spring evening as I sat in the sand and enjoyed a sunset, I assigned my intellect and ego to draft a letter to my physical and emotional body. This was the result. And although private, I feel compelled to share because this is my yoga. The journey is far from over, but this helped infuse the path with more love and compassion.
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