Our Bodies are Works of Art
Many times, the life of the spirit and the life of physicality in this world seem to be separate. If, as the mystics say, ‘all is one,’ how could this separation be? In Christian mythology, heaven is above, as if the celestial, invisible were a higher order of being. This beautiful earth to which we are born is awash in beauty. How could we, in our physicality not be holy? Our bodies are amazing works of art, miracles of life, encased in skin, that science has never fully explained.
Thinking of the body as a work of art can be a gateway to honoring the self, the physical, our form, and who we think we are in this moment. We marvel at sculpture, the perfect form of Michelangelo’s “David,” yet we forget to marvel at ourselves. We often say that health is everything, especially after a frightening bout with illness but what if we were to hold this consciousness about our physical being right here, right now. We might begin by blessing our toes, those nimble small cushions of flexible movement. We could move this sense of appreciation to our feet, the foundation of that capability which transports us through life. And moving up to our calves, the power of our hips and torso, seeing the blessings of our physical body with new eyes. We are each bundles of fluid, perfect form and we rarely consider it until it needs repair.
In working with AIDS patients in the ‘80’s, as so many functions of the body shut down, groups of the afflicted did conscious meditations on all of the minute working parts that still held the living, breathing body together. And no matter how debilitated the body, there were always so many that were functioning perfectly. All it takes is awareness, no matter what our physical condition.
To see ourselves as living works of art is to be made new.