Food for Thought
Contemplating Embodiment
As I’ve been contemplating the physical body, I can’t help but ponder what it means to embody. The word itself means to be an expression of or give form to (an idea, quality, or feeling). Our bodies, these physical vessels that move us through the world, make the invisible visible. Others see our values or thoughts through our daily actions. Our hands write lyrics that become love in verse; our physical actions make ideas manifest for others to witness. I read, therefore I become a reader. I practice daily sadhana and become a yogi. If I flip the bird at a grandma holding up traffic, I am the embodiment of road rage. Believe it or not, these last two are not inherently mutually exclusive, and that is why we practice.
Upon first contemplating the anamaya kosha, the most superficial layer of self, in the yogic system known as the koshas, I wanted to dismiss it as just that, superficial. I’m realizing now that what is most visible is, in fact, the embodiment of our deepest truths. We don’t have to wear a graphic tee for our outfit to tell a story. A hairstyle choice might make others consider you chic, “c*nty” or a Karen. Our bodies are an expression of the energy that resides beneath the surface. A heavy sigh carries deep meaning. A lip nibble means you’re worried. When we find something funny, we laugh. We whistle while we work. We hum when we’re happy. Salt water wells up in our eyes when we are overwhelmed with grief or joy.
Even our language reflects these acts of embodiment. We “stand up” for what we believe. We “bow” under pressure. We “grasp” for an idea. We “look away” from injustice or we “rise up” against oppression. It strikes me in this way how much our bodies matter. How in this life, this time, this is the way we are known. How our very actions reflect all we hold to be true.
On a personal level, I’ve been considering what it means to be an embodiment of the value I hold dearest and truest, love, and what that might look like. How love in its tangible, embodied form may not be a passionate poem, it might be two squeezes of a hand. It might be someone saving you a seat, or wiping the boogers out of your five-year-old’s eyelashes. It might be a meme sent without explanation. It might be baking gluten-free marshmallow brownies for someone’s birthday. It might be a small act of service that the other person never even knows about. It might be a simple, “Hey, how was your day?” It might be holding a grain of compassion for a person you’ve never met who lives a life completely different than yours.
In summary, I suppose what I’m saying is that how we act matters. How we show up reflects what we believe. Our acts of embodiment are who we are, and now I’m nourishing myself with and offering you the same food for thought as an act of love.