Atlas of our skin

"What our bodies require in order to thrive, is what the world requires. If there is a map to get there, it can be found in the atlas of our skin and bone and blood, in the tracks of neurotransmitters and antibodies.

When I write about cancer and exhaustion and irritable bowels in the context of the treeless slopes of my homeland, of market driven famine, of xenoestrogens and the possible extinction of bees, I am tracing that map with my fingertips, walking into the heart of the storm that shakes my body and occupies the world."

Aurora Levins Morales

These words have accompanied me for a while now.
Something of it makes me feel so warm.

The words that we use to describe our bodies matter.
When I see my body as a living landscape something in me softens and gets curious.

Where are deserts, tales, mountains, fields. Which parts are softer and which more dense?
How has the landscape of my body changed over time?
How might it change in the years to come?

Does the way how you look at yourself change too?
Does your gaze soften?
What do you notice?

Aurora doesnt stop there. She understands that everybody is inherently connected to the collective. The collective body is also inherently connected to each and every fibre of my being.

What our bodies require is what the world requires.
Doing this inner work is absolutely exhausting. Especially if you feel like you could do more urgent things and taking time for your body is just needed.

The notion of self care is harmful. As it is seen so individualistic.
But thats not the point of this poem cause the self is seen so deeply rooted in the collective.
If we see them both intertwined and can look deeply at what we desire and yearn for, they are one and the same thing.

Cause the world needs people to truly feel. To come home to our bodies. To resist. To disantangle.