Have You Been in Your Body Lately?

I like to experiment with being in my body. Sounds simple enough, I realize. Where else would I be but in my body? But, funny thing is, I find myself more often feeling like I'm out in front of my body than in it. My attention, my energy, my sense of being is out there in the future, rushing ahead to the next thing or two I've got planned.

If I stop and check in with my body, I feel tension in my shoulders, my belly, my facial muscles. I'm straining to get something done, and my whole body feels the effects.

I've recently been making a point to stop often during the day to settle back into my body, paying attention to how this rushing out ahead of myself is affecting me. I enter a state of mindful, compassionate attention. I begin with my feet, noticing how the feeling of life is flowing through them, also noticing the space inside my feet. Then I move my attention to my ankles, noticing and feeling the aliveness and space inside them. And so on, up to my skull. This is a gentle process of noticing without judgment and without the need to change anything. The simple act of noticing - becoming aware - is powerfully transformative by itself.

I had participants of a workshop I gave, do this simple exercise I just described, slowly noticing their sense of being alive in each part of their bodies. When they were done, they commented that they felt more relaxed, present, joyful. I could tell by looking at them that their facial muscles were much less taut than when they started. Most of them wore a soft smile. I hadn't asked them to "relax," only to "notice," yet the very act of focused noticing brought them to this state of greater ease and pleasure.

I think we often hunger for this sense of feeling at ease - at home - in our bodies. We live in a restless society, where we are often driven by an urgency to be in action. We may feel an emotional disturbance of some kind and try to calm it by reaching for something to eat or drink or by getting "busy." We look outside of ourselves to get filled up in some way. But maybe our bodies are crying out for attention rather than action. We may already be full but just haven't spent time exploring what our internal fullness feels like.

A friend recently sent me a few lines from the journal of a friend written shortly before the woman died. The writings were reflections on her life and impending death. She spoke of her body as being "my house. Where I have lived these many years. I was born in this house, built in the womb of my mother. I will die in this house." She went on to talk about many amazing qualities of the body, including that is was filled with "empty space (lots of air) and lots of water." It was like she was a curious occupant of her body just getting to know and appreciate her surroundings.

We do not need to wait until we are dying to make ourselves at home in our bodies. We can start now, by simply noticing where we live, breath by breath.