My Body Is My Temple to Itself

Originally posted on January 1, 2014

So, this just happened… I sat down at 6 pm to participate in a New Year’s Day meditation wave that is currently sweeping the globe but jumped up after only 15 minutes (I am so proud that I just wrote “only!”) and started creating. I had a poem and then it turned into a sketch which became a collage…

I Love My Body

I love my body. It is my temple.
I love my body! I love our body.
This is not my body, it is a collection of vibrations
that densified so much they had to give it a name.

I think at some point it used to be Peacock.
And Mother Willow at another.
And just Mother some other day.

If energy is neither created nor destroyed
why wouldn’t I be recycled?
If 90% of us is just the empty space between electrons,
why do we feel so solid?

Why do we melt into the TV
or chug a twelve-pack or eat trash
when this collection of vibrations
is nothing short of a miracle?

In the morning my heart sings when over the horizon
comes the great life-giver; my body is a temple!

I love my body.
It is my tool.
It is my temple
to itself.

Why would I seek without,
prostrating and bowing and dignifying,
when that which is divine
lies within my chest?

I love my body.
I love my relentless heart
with a blue healing compassion and
with a yellow fiery passion.

I love my body.
I love my body.
I love your body.
I love our body.

It was something like that. When are they going to invent a tape recorder for thoughts?

Things to post about in the near future:

  • Making an altar
  • Using crystals
  • Visualizing sacred spaces (?)

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