In the last newsletter I shared the idea of internal wind, and some of the ways that interrogating the supremacy of the mind can lead to greater peace with life’s ebbs and flows.
We are living in urgent times, and discernment is necessary to conserve our energy and put it to effective use.
As my salsa teacher used to say, “When the tempo picks up, remember to slow down. Make your movements smaller. Listen carefully to find the rhythm.” Possibly words to live by in the upcoming months.
Before shifting further towards the body, perhaps we can conceptualize the mind as a matrix and archive, a container to be examined but not mistaken for the contents. There’s a difference between observing, sometimes even analyzing the movements of the mind, and becoming lost in story. Maybe this is the biggest potential pitfall that we face in the modality of psychotherapy— we become seduced by the analysis and the stories. We believe that if we can just get the story right, then we will heal. If we can just figure out all the answers, then we won’t encounter the same feelings and lessons again and again. If only it were that simple.
There are always more answers because there are always more questions. It sometimes takes a moment of grace to say, “I know enough.”The body holds the keys to unlocking the patterns that persist beyond knowing, for shedding the beliefs that we no longer consciously endorse but persist in our daily experience, and the steadiness within that can hold us through even the most challenging experiences.
For those of us who have been taught that our bodies were wrong, who felt the weight of judgement from others, whose nervous systems may speak at an overwhelming volume, this work is essential and challenging.
Like many of my clients over the years, I used to lament that I had to do so many self-care practices “just to feel normal.” When I became physically disabled, I had even morethings I had to do in order to keep my body in a relative state of ease and functioning. It took quite some time to learn to enjoy these practices. Because doing so meant I needed to learn how to love myself and my body unconditionally.
It continues to amaze me how often self-love becomes tied in subtle ways to being “good enough.” I had to untangle ideas and stories about my identity, my purpose, and my worth, from my body. And all of these elements or fragments of who I was, needed to be untangled from my true nature or core self.
My body was a vessel that required tending, and the love in the tending mattered. I could not nurse myself to equilibrium out of obligation and resentment. I had to rewrite the story of my physical injuries, as the opportunity to remember who I really was. And then I had to let go of that story too. (The untangling continues.)
I used to say that self-care was something that people learned from caregivers, or later as adults. But I’ve come to believe that very few of us currently living in this imperialist-white-supremacist-capitalist-patriarchy have consistently seen unconditional self-love, self-care, and reciprocity modeled for us. We are often confused about what we owe to others and ourselves. We struggle to distinguish between mutual care and generosity vs extracting and exploiting ourselves, between self-care and self-love vs selfishness and avoidance, and we confuse earth-honoring reciprocity with viewing nature as objects of pleasure and soothing that exist for our use. Nature and the elements are wise teachers in learning these areas of discernment, but in order to receive that wisdom we must learn to deeply listen.
And in my opinion, our bodies must be prepared to feel this knowing because our minds often need time to understand the complexity of what is received. The body anchors this wisdom, and gives us something to touch back on when we forget. The body understands easily because the body knows that it is of the earth. The body possesses an intelligence and intuition that is far beyond our mental capacity.
If you’re unsure if this is true, consider what it takes to create and break down certain kinds of cells at the location of an injury, the physical brain’s capacity to build neural pathways and prune them, or the skin’s ability to shed itself in optimal timing to maintain a protective envelop to the body. Our science struggles to replicate what the body does on its own with no conscious input from us. How can we learn the wisdom of our own bodies if we are constantly seeking to control them?
When I commune with the water, when I mindfully walk in the woods, when I turn my face to the sun, and when I breathe deeply, I aim to feel beyond the physical body and allow its energy to merge with the elements. Those of you who have taken Reiki training with me are familiar with my “Reiki is a lifestyle” approach, that reminds us of the magic within and without. In the dissolving of conscious distinction between “self” and environment we can practice allowing the body to become primary, and the mind a witness. We don’t have to “do” anything to receive this nourishing gift. If our bodies are the earth (and they are), then our relationship to our physical forms cannot be ignored in a process of being in reciprocity with nature.
Working with the tangible and metaphorical qualities of the elements— Air, Fire, Water, Earth, and Ether— supports us in recalibrating, whether we are “beginners” or well-versed in body practices. Each element demonstrates different ways that energy can move, the interaction between energy and material/matter, and has a correlation within the landscape of the body. Our bodies are made principally of Water, as well as Earth. The element of Air is the most vital to our immediate survival (we can live without food and water much longer than air), and is also the most direct and conscious way to influence the energy of the body. Fire takes the form of the electromagnetic fields of the brain and heart, we generate heat within the body, but also are responsive to the temperature around us. The amount of “Fire” conducive to life is a narrow window— just a 5-10 degree range is the difference between life and death, whether from too much or too little heat. Ether is a bit more removed from our more easily observable examples, but only because it is unseen. However this is important, because the acknowledgement that there are essential parts of our universe (and our bodies) that we don’t fully understand, that we can’t see but we can feel and know, helps us to develop trust in our own system. We could say that the realm of emotions is perhaps more directly related to Ether, in their phenomenological nature.
🎧 An audio practice for deepening your relationship to Elemental Energy 🎧
(You’ll want to have your journal, sketchbook, instrument, movement space, or some other expressive modality handy for this one)
A great psychiatrist I worked with many years ago once said, “Diagnosis shows us the topography, but not the terrain.” I have thought about these wise words often. There were many layers to the simple statement: The importance of getting down “on the ground;” the way that texture and landscape is unique to individuals, and how that influences how we can best navigate; and more subtly, it speaks to the balance between overall goals and being immersed in the scenery. Conditions are always changing, and in learning the Terrain of the Body we are learning how to be in reciprocity, how to pay close attention and be flexible, and how to be a part of this environment rather than trying to master it.
As is often the case, the particular meditations and prompts gathered into the upcoming workshop Terrain of the Body, emerged out of direct practice. They began as a means of surviving and became an act of love. My overall approach to working with the body on an elemental level has been informed by my engagement with the writing and classes of Sarah Gottesdiener from 2017-2022, the Homecoming practices of Lama Rod Owens, and the last year of working with Tracee Stanley (first through her writing and then directly in groups). There is commonality to many approaches into elemental energy practices because they are rooted in the universal truth that we are nature. Our bodies are made of the same stuff as the stars and the earth. When we drop into the body and feel the energy that animates our physical form, we can observe the flow of energy inside our bodies as mirrors to the flow of energy around us.
While my personal practice does include other more culturally specific approaches to the elements, our workshop will be rooted in Reiki practice and personal inquiry so that you can incorporate our work into an existing practice if you have one. This workshop is offered by donation, and it will be recorded for those who are busy, out of town, or otherwise prefer to tune it at a later time. I believe that gathering in a group to practice amplifies the energy, and ultimately the healing available. (And this extends to those who catch the replay).
If this work speaks to you, I hope you’ll join me next weekend.
Inward Vision 