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I recently read an article about dialoguing with the body to create healing. Soon after this we attended a weekend silent retreat. I chose to spend the retreat inwardly dialoguing with the body in whatever way that showed up. This is the discovery, the unfolding:

This precious Life
This body that is Life itself
This “thing” I took for granted
And criticized
And lamented
For not being good enough
Flawed, too heavy
Oddly shaped
Just a vehicle to do
My bidding
Always an underbreath of
This thing of beauty
This flawed perfection
This perfect entity
This thing of grace
And infinite generosity
I treated as if I was a dictator
The master
The controller
Never considering
The respect and honour
And gratitude and presence
I owed it,
And that it deserved,
And that it needed.

This precious Life.
Without the body there is no life.
The body is Life itself.
How could it be otherwise?
It is here simply in all kindness and generosity
It is Life
Without it there would be no ‘me’.
‘Me’ always trying to be in charge
And have it be a certain way
Without consideration for the body itself
Without consideration for Life itself
The lifestream that is the body
In all its perfect imperfection.
This thing of Holy beauty
That I have not always appreciated.
Worse, have censured and grieved.
No wonder there is pain
No wonder it struggles.
No wonder it does not feel rest.

This precious Life
That gives and gives and gives
And asks nothing in return
And yet needs honouring
And appreciation
And tenderness
And attention
From a place
Of respect and acceptance.

This precious Life
At last it has my attention.
And my deep apology
And my gratitude
And my humility.

This precious Life.
There is no way to register the
Magnitude of the blessing
Of this body.

This body, this precious Life
Is not me
Or mine
It is Life expressing itself
The infinite expressing itself
As this.

It’s time to celebrate
Time to find the joy in every cell
Open to the essential celebration intrinsic
to each and every cell.

Celebrate these eyes,
What an inexpressible blessing,
That see the suffering
And the liquid luminance and beauty
Of this mystery we call reality
These ears that hear
The sweet soft sound
Of birdsong
Or the heartbeat of the secret that is music
Celebrate this voice to express
The grief and the elation of the heart
Celebrate the limbs that move
This body this Life that dances
That feels the music
and moves as one with the rhythm,
That walks, that sighs, that sings
Celebrate the skin
The touch of soft fur
The feel of rough bark or
Dewdrops on spring grass
Celebrate inhaling sweet summer blossoms
And the stench of sewers
Celebrate a heart that beats
And the breath that rises and falls
Without reminding.

Celebrate this precious Life
This body that is Life itself
The lifestream that is the body
In all its perfect imperfection

This thing of Holy beauty.
This precious Life.

Photos of the day:
above – Monterosso, Cinque Terre, Italy.
below – Iris, after the rain, Canberra, Australia.


All words and images by Alison Louise Armstrong unless otherwise noted
© Alison Louise Armstrong and Adventures in Wonderland – a pilgrimage of the heart, 2010-2015.