A morning with myself.

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I touched every inch of my body I could reach today. Not in a sexual way. But a sensory way. I was kind and generous with my touch. Using my fingers as paintbrushes to gently graze the surface of the skin that wraps my consciousness up. Cocooned in a shell that isn’t appreciated by its owner. I felt every smooth patch to every rough scar, raised tattoo and stretch mark. Allowing it to happen. Appreciating what it felt like to be nestled in unapologetic bliss and awe of how this body of mine stretched and clicked as I reached around to find new parts of myself that had been lost in the fragility of insecurity. 

Afraid to venture my own map incase I didn’t like what I found. Instead I found the backs of my thighs made me giggle, the inner bicep of my arm made me breath peacefully with every trail of gratitude I made with my fingertips still stained with paint from yesterday. I found the bottoms of my feet, knowing every crease in their soles had taken me around the world. I held my own hand, comforted myself. Said it was okay. You’re okay. And this is okay. 

Running fuller cupped hands across my shoulders that usually ache with bad posture. They were forgiving in this act of kindness. Releasing tension I didn’t realise I was carrying. In this moment. I am safe within my own touch. I listen and hear my own contact connecting, listening for the roar of the road I created on my own surface. Aware of every tap and patter of fingerprints to this precious being that carries my soul. Realising it isn’t my body causing me damage. But the things I inflict on it. 

No more. I will listen to you. I will feel what you need and I will nourish you like you are my first love. I understand, even if it is just for today. I understand you and your meaning. Our meaning. This is what it is like to be in sync with your senses and appreciate them for what they really are. Life. This is what life has to offer. Experiences, sensations, smells, touches, sounds, comfortable and uncomfortable. I urge you, spend time with your being. It’s refreshing to introduce yourself to yourself. 

You might not realised how starved your body is of attention until you tend to yourself. Goosebumps igniting playfully under a flame of contentment for this moment. I forgive myself. 

Learning my own language. What language will you speak to your body with?

Don’t think. Just move. Instinctively. Move towards what feels good. You’ll loosen gears and cogs that had been neglected without you noticing. A language of self love. 

Robyn @ TEWP x

1 Comment

  1. Joanne WOOD says

    Beautiful , so well written and captivating. Loved this, so simple to treasure and love our bodies. Thanks for reminding me to self love and appreciate my body and be thankful for it, although scarred and weary, beautiful.


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