What my body is for
In just a week I’m traveling to Bali. My first solo-trip since becoming a mom 4.5 years ago. First trip to the tropics since we left in 2017.
I have a mixed bag of emotions about this trip from many angles, but one of the strangest one has been about my body.
As I buy bikinis and plan my vacation, I observe very distorted thoughts floating around my head. Will I be allowed on the island because I’m not a hot 20 year-old, but a middle-aged mama on a break?
Will I be allowed on the island?
I hate having these thoughts, but there they are. They are a by-product of the society we live in. I can claim not to have them, to intellectually understand they are untrue, but they are in me like microplastics. They are in me because they are in the environment I live in, the air I breathe and the images I (unconsciously) consume.
The process of observing my thoughts got me thinking about what my body is really for? What is it for, and who is it for?
The experience of my body
There is a difference with how I experience my body, and how I observe my body.
The experience of my body has always been positive. I love living in my body because it simply feels good. It allows me to experience life through all of my senses, and it provides me beauty, pleasure and love.
My body is strong and healthy. It allows me to walk, run, stretch and eat delicious ice-cream. It allows me to see beauty in the world. It allows me to smell the amazing fragrances that nature provides, and it allows me to touch the ones I love. It allows me to listen to the most hauntingly beautiful music, and to laugh at the silliest of TV shows. My body provides me pleasure, in movement, taste, sight, touch and in intimacy. Most of all, I feel safe in my body and I trust it.
I love the experience of my body. It cannot be compared, because there is no comparison to experience. I only have mine, and mine alone. You cannot experience what I experience, therefore I can exist in peace, as a piece of unique nature that I am.
The trouble comes when we observe. We look at ourselves with the eyes of others, from the outside in. We forget the experience, and we compare.
How does my body compare to that of another? We objectify, and think comparison is important. We think we should all be the same. We think we know what is good and what is not, and we think we know what others are thinking.
We see the life lived on the curve of our skin and think – am I allowed?
My body is mine
I know I will be triggered during my trip, but that’s OK. What a lovely experiment, and a reminder to focus on what really matters.
All I want to do is focus on the experience of my body, the experience of my existence. I want to take in the beauty of the sunsets and feel the warm sand under my toes. I want to taste the fruits and let the sun tickle my skin.
I want to remember at all times how grateful I am o be alive. To have been allowed already 43 and a half beautiful years on this planet, a life already so full of beauty, adventure and love.
In the midst of all that, how someone views my body from the outside is none of my business, it’s theirs. It doesn’t belong to me, and it’s not mine to carry. It is not even remotely relevant.
There are no standards for experiences, no measuring stick for levels of pleasure and love. Other people’s experiences, views or thoughts don’t belong to me.
What belongs to me is how my body feels within.
And it feels like love.
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Hi, I'm Kaisa
I’m a INFJ/HSP/HSS chasing joy, sensations, experiences, emotions, contradictions, LIFE. I’m here to share my experience of existence with you in the hopes that we feel connected at heart and strengthened by our shared experience.
“May we all know ourselves as the Universe created us. May we all know life as we were meant to live it. May we all love purely, deeply and totally. May humanity discover its divinity, and may we all dwell in the peace of the Universe” – A Course in Miracles