Today, swimming in the cold of a spring fed lake, rain drops falling all around me, I mapped the country of my body.
The ache of love, lost, missed, and yearned for, lives tucked under the tips of my shoulder blades; waiting like wings that might unfurl at any moment.
The bowl of my pelvis, full of creation; stories longing to be told, stories longing to be healed.
My holy "no" like a shining gem at the base of my throat and my radiant "yes" rippling like wild fire through my chest.
The length of my spine, from the tip of my tailbone to the base of my skull, spirit and divine energy dance. A dance so familiar and so foreign at the same time, whispering of things half remembered here in this life time.
In my hips I hold the storm clouds of hurt.
Roots grow down, strong and sacred like redwoods, from the base of my pelvis, through the length of my legs and out the soles of my feet.
The curve of my belly, the softest, strongest energetic processing centre.
Pangs of emotions, so strong they catch my breath, pulse through the rhythm of my lungs.
And at the centre is my heart; my well of knowing, my trusted guidance.
The temple of my body.
The landscape of my spirit.