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Dear Body: a letter to a precious friend

Dear Body

Hope you are well. I sense that you are in a somewhat tumultuous time, but please know that I am thinking of you, even if you don't think I am. Thank you for leading me to extraordinary people, like the lady who taught me about warmth and coldness and the way my body shudders when it has realised something, let something in. I hope with all my heart that I keep those tingles all my life. I could do without the searing pain, but I know at this time, in some part of me, that they are birthing light.

Today I noticed my ankle. It had always been there of course, dangling gracefully. I used to think it was fat, full of bileful liquid. But I saw that this had drained away-in me, in it (what is the difference?). It points in such an extradordinary way-towards the door, although it is very patient, it will wait until I have finished typing this, to support me up, onto the ground. And then perhaps towards the refrigerator to ask my body 'what do you want?'

Of course, the dull pain soon comes in again, but although hateful, I welcome it in. For it is, in its innocence, full of deep grain. If I just flick my eyes over it. That is all it asks. I wrap a towel around my belly, warm and wet, to comfort at some level. I hope it does the trick. I feel content with this small action anyway. I hear my body say thank you. And start to sing quietly with the poetry I have obeyed. For once, I did myself a favour. For once I thought of myself and you together-of the neglectful gaps we have so far ignored (often in places we never imagined, my body). Now I step back and begin to see how glorious we are.

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mottogirl
mottogirl

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