A Letter to Your Body: Part 1 of 2

For many people living with disability our relationship with our bodies is complex. Writing a letter to it can be illuminating and healing.

DECEMBER PROMPT:

Write an open letter to your body.

Welcome to the December publication from our adaptive yoga community. We are so glad you are here! This month we asked our students to write a letter to their body. Letter writing is a sacred space for reflection and honesty, and these letters are a beautiful example of this. The letters have been divided over a couple of publications. Please comment below, share with your friends, and subscribe so you never miss a publication. Thank you!

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To my left arm, Matilda,

I’ve never gotten to know you well and in arrogant right supremacy, I didn’t need you… after enduring decades of that neglect I understand your resentment …But, see? Now? …Now I’m trying to include you when I put away dishes, when I do Warrior One.

Why won’t you talk to me, Matilda? Don’t you ever want to rise up in overwhelming joy or strike out in exasperation?

I was told, by those who know, that my body waits ready to be heard—so Matilda, I’m hoping you satisfy my curiosity and tell me what you know that I don’t …

Keep in touch,
Karen

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Dear Body,

I am so glad to know you. We know each other so well, don't we? I know your norms and patterns, where you bend and where you are stiff. Your joy and your longing. I know your every scar, and how life in this world has changed you.

I bet you know me pretty well, too. How could you not? You've lived with my patterns our whole lives, too.

I'm sorry for all the times I have not taken care of you. And for the times I've been angry at you for things neither of us could control. (Though I think and hope those have not been too often.)

I love you.

I am so glad and grateful for the healing you've been able to do. And for the healing you've enabled me to do - I know myself to be whole because I live in you. I know my brokenness is part of my wholeness because you taught me that. I am healing still by being more and more at home with you. Thank you.

My prayer for us is that we continue to move towards more connection and wholeness and ease.

Love,
Liz

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An Open Letter to My Body

-Rebecca Áine

Dear Legs and Feet, Thank you for carrying me so far in this lifelong journey. Remember, whenever you don’t feel safe, you are empowered to run.

Dear Female Organs, I am so so sorry they didn’t listen to us, and that they took you away from me at such a young age. Though we couldn’t make our own beautiful children, I am blessed with so many other Little Ones in my life.

Dear Intestines, Thank you for putting up with all the surgeries. It seems we’re finally at a good place, and I promise to put up a big fight if they try to take any more of you away.

Dear Hands and Fingers, Thank you for writing with such honesty and creativity. It’s our time now. We’re telling our story. We no longer have to hide.

Dear Heart, It’s okay to relax now. You can let down your walls. No one is gonna hurt us like that ever again.

Dear Mind, You are so brilliant. I’m sorry for the times I’ve doubted you. We’re gonna keep making incredible magic together.

Dear One, You survived. Thank you for never ever giving up. There were times where that really seemed like a viable option. Like the only way to deal with all the pain and suffering.

But you made it. You’re here. Every breath of yours is sacred. Your job now is to inspire others. There’s so many people hurting. And because you made it out alive, you can help them.

So go on. Don’t be shy. Open your arms to the world. They’ve been waiting for you.

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