Body-Mind-Spirit - Inspiration for Writers, Dreamers, and Seekers of Health & Happiness
March 5th was my birthday. Ten minutes into my morning meditation I felt like moving, so I gave myself the gift of a birthday dance. I cleared space in my living room, turned on my iPod, and let myself go, giving full attention to my body. I listened to how it wanted to move and followed.
Soon, my heart felt huge. I opened my arms, lifted my palms, gazed at the mountains outside my window, took in their strength, and felt as wide as the valley that stretched before me. I was exuberant, joyous, and grateful. For this dance, yes, but for much more.
Days before, I had given myself an even greater gift: I’d completed my book proposal for The Raw Years: A Midlife Healing Memoir, which I’d spent six months crafting. The whole process felt divinely inspired. I’ve never written with such grace and ease before. So my gratitude was also for this flow I’m living. The gods are grinning and filling my sails with wind. Gratitude was—and still is—the order of the day, and when March 5th rolled around, my body, at first, could not sit still—even during morning meditation. It had to express its gratitude and joy in leaps and turns, in sways and swirls, hugs and curls—and after that, stillness.
How easy it is to cram myself into a chair and ignore my body while I write, but my body longs to expand, wander, and soar as much as my mind. It seeks spaces between its smallest bones. It has its own stories to tell.
While dancing, I spotted family photos, bowed, and said a silent thank you to my in-laws for all they’ve given me—especially for their son, my husband, Jim. I looked at his photo, and then at my daughter Helen’s. I held my heart and deepened my bow.
The last song on my playlist was Nadine Risha’s chant: I Am The Holy One. It goes like this:
I am the holy one
walking the perfect journey
I am awake and holy
my heart is full
my mind is free.
The chant lasted several minutes. I sat on a blanket repeating these words and felt them reverberate through my core. Katie, our dog, walked into the room, nails clicking against the hard wood floor. She eyed me as she climbed into her bed beneath the fireplace. I turned to her and said, “Would you like to join me?” She came right over and crawled into my lap. I petted her while singing, and after Katie’s wild, wagging tail quieted, and the chant ended, we sat together in a blissful birthday silence.
How do you celebrate your accomplishments and your life? I’d love to hear from you.
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