What happens when you inhabit your body?
Nothing was planned; there was no time to prepare movements or spaces. My home became the place where I would perform movements I had been doing for years, and I didn’t imagine how hard it would be.
Once I was naked and in my safe space, the magic began. I stripped away every thought and simply inhabited my body, in a kind of active meditation. I felt the cold from head to toe, the smoothness of the pole, the smell of the coffee I had just made and the music in the background. I felt comfortable and safe, but also incredibly vulnerable.
I inhabited my body and the unlearning button switched on. I forgot every movement I had worked on for years. Can someone forget everything? Was it the anxiety of wanting to do it well that made me lose myself? Was it the lack of preparation for that day? Was it the spontaneity of the moment? I think the only reason and answer is that I was inhabiting my body and vacating my head.
I’m grateful to have this body that, without much connection to what was happening in my mind, figured out and performed movements that require strength and concentration.
I relish the moment, I enjoy feeling the pinch of skin against the pole, the smoothness of the pole every time I fell. I’m grateful that the body I inhabit is strong and holds me in moments of vulnerability.
In situations where we function on autopilot, it’s easy to forget our connection with our body. But when we connect with it, we realize how spectacular and wonderful it can be.
Kona
AUGUST 17, 2025
