Body as Connection

I feel the points of contact where my body touches the chair, my feet touch the carpet, my arm touches the desk, and my fingertips touch the keys. I look ahead and see a painting, plants on a shelf, books all around me. I am not in a vacuum, but a body in space. How often do I notice myself as body-in-context?

For those of us in the West, we tend to think of ourselves as individuals, distinct from the world around us. When we’re stressed, irritable, or tired, we might wonder what’s wrong with us or push through as best we can. Despite what our bodies and current situation are telling us, we convince ourselves “it really isn’t that bad,” shame ourselves for being less than perfect, or tell ourselves “this is how things are” unless we’re on a beach in Mexico. We dissociate, numb, and medicate. We ignore what our bodies are telling us: that we need rest, connection, or sustenance. We get mad at ourselves for being less than our best, while ignoring all-too-obvious reasons why we might be feeling that way (wars, pandemics, and elections, anyone?). Does it have to be this way, though?

Though we’re only able to see and sense our body in three dimensions, there is more than meets the eye. We are connected to each other, this planet, and more beyond ourselves. When we think of a friend and reach out to them, maybe they’ve had a rough day and our text gave them a boost. When we acknowledge our sorrow and grief and give them care and compassion, we answer the call us to return to ourselves — our human selves, and life in its full array. Beyond that which is physical, there are tugs and pulls calling us to something deeper. We are invariably connected with others, and connection is present in abundance. Whether we acknowledge it or not, we are always bodies in context, impacted by the world around us and impacting the spaces we occupy. If only we would acknowledge it, extend compassion to ourselves, and pay attention to the connections all around us.