My body is what I am, and at the same time, it isn’t. The fact is, I get to use it and enjoy it for a lifetime. It can give me an immeasurable amount of joy and pain. My body gets sick, tired and feels flawed sometimes. Then, it dances to the music only my soul can hear. My body can be on cloud nine and jump for joy. It likes doing yoga and walking on a sand. There are times, it is curled up on a couch in agony.
My body didn’t use to be like that. I didn’t see it as beautiful, I didn’t know it was. It belonged to me, and I took care of it, but I didn’t really experience it to the full extent. I failed to appreciate it, as I used to perceive myself in terms of my intellect, only.
Yet, I was meant to come across my sensual side, sooner or later. It was a pleasant surprise to get to know my body, eventually. And as I made a connection between it, my spirit, and my mind, suddenly all the elements of puzzle fell into place. Now, that I consciously own it, I celebrate it as much as I can. I take glimpses of it while passing the mirror, and now I admire it, and love it.
My body is what I am, and at the same time, it isn’t. It does not define me. What defines me, though, is how I relate to my body. In my past, I saw myself as unattractive and not worthy of love. This choice, albeit not conscious on my part, has shaped my concept of self for many years.
These days, I am more aware of my body, my sensuality and in tune with myself. My body is one of many expressions of who I am. With this in mind, I don’t see myself as flawed. I choose to see beauty in me. I determine how it affects me in relation to the outside world. I use my body to my advantage, just because I can. When I walk in my high heels I know I turn heads. Does it make me happy? No, but it amuses me how important body image can be. Going from self-conscious to self-confident was a process all inspired by my relationship to my body. Now, in my forties, I am more confident and content than ever. I am also grateful for the gift my body is to me.
Sometimes life gets so busy I am on autopilot and forget about my body. It literally carries me throughout the day, and I don’t even spare a moment to slow down to think about it. Only when I find myself sick or in pain, I focus on it again. Its fragility frightens me, and at the same time, fills me with wonder. It reminds me of life’s impermanence. Yet, it is not death that scares me, but leaving the loved ones behind.
My body is my temple. I am thankful for it every day.