
One of our biggest sources of shame, it seems to me, is feeling like we’re uniquely flawed: gross, ugly, bumpy, stinky, flat, gigantic, sickly. We often want to hide our perceived flaws, too, and so move through the normal challenges of life with the added work of keeping parts of ourselves hidden. I get this image of us all slinking around like kids in a game of detective, missing out on the ease of walking leisurely down life’s street as we dash from tree to tree, hedge to building, trying to keep cover.
I want to talk overtly next week about some of the hiding I’ve done in my life, but before that happens, I want to tell you about a page I’m setting up here as a place for all of us to drop the disguise, so to speak, and talk honestly with and about our bodies.
The idea came from yesterday’s post about rituals for coming home to our bodies, and specifically the exercise of writing letters to our bodies.
I’m wondering whether any of you might be willing to share with the rest of us a letter that you write to your body. I’m wondering whether you might gift us with the knowledge that we aren’t alone in having body issues; that both shame and pride, gratitude and indignation are normal; and that it’s possible to blow our covers, sometimes, and discover ourselves to be safe and actually stronger, and more hopeful for it.
Here is the page that I’ve set up. My soul sister, Kate, has graciously offered a first letter, and I encourage you to click from there to her site to be amazed at what she’s lived through these last months…years, really…all with her sights set on learning to trust. I’m in awe of you, Kate.
And if you feel at all inclined to offer your own letter, please do! You can tell me to post it anonymously if you wish, or have me include your name and website address, if you have a site to share.
Here’s to your body, and to all of us in our squiggly lines of moving more toward trust!
P.S. Can you help me spread word about this page? It feels like such an important space – both for those searching for ways to connect more meaningfully with themselves, but also for those who might find healing or hope in reading others’ letters. Thank you!










Everything Belongs
Seasons are universal. Treat yours uniquely.










Kristin, this is beautiful, awesome.
Comment by Karah Fisher Madrone — June 17, 2011 @ 7:45 amI wrote a love letter to myself about two years ago, and was deeply transformed by the experience. The biggest surprise for me was how much I wrote about my physical body, and how healing it was to do so. Wow.
Love,
Karah
Karah, you’re inspiring me to write more of a love letter than I’ve written to myself. And reminding me that the way we frame this exercise makes all the difference for our experience of it. How would it change the content if it were called a letter of apology, a letter of commitment, a love letter…
Thanks for sparking more depth for me here.
Comment by Kristin Noelle — June 17, 2011 @ 10:54 amI love this idea. I really need to think about it though. I’ve never been one to worry too much about my body, though recently, because of health problems, I seem to be more focused than ever on what I perceive to be my faults. I think maybe this would be a good idea!
Comment by Christine @ Coffees & Commutes — June 20, 2011 @ 4:47 amOh, I hope you do it, Christine. I found it to be both strange and wonderful, but more than that, I am being so deeply moved as I read others’ letters. They feel holy to me. I feel reverent and quiet and teared up after reading each one.
Comment by Kristin — June 20, 2011 @ 7:44 pm[...] you’re there, get cozy in Kristin’s space. Check out her past topics. Start tending your own trust with some gentle exercises. And don’t forget to do a little window shopping in the Trust [...]
Pingback by Short « Walking on My Hands — June 22, 2011 @ 10:22 pm