If Your Body Could Speak: Listening To The Poem Within

So welcome everyone and thank you for listening.

Today we are going to explore something different,

Something creative.

We are going to listen to your body speak.

Not as a medical report.

My shoulder is tight,

My back hurts.

But as the language your body actually uses when given the chance.

Your body doesn't speak in clinical terms.

It speaks in images.

In sensations that carry meaning.

In feelings that are really stories.

And in tensions that are really poems waiting to be heard.

Your throat doesn't say,

I am constricted due to stress.

Your throat says,

I am holding all the words you never said.

I am full of silence that wants to become sound.

Your belly doesn't say,

I have digestive discomfort.

Your belly says,

I have been churning worries like stones.

Your belly says,

I now forgot how to be soft.

Your feet don't say,

I am experiencing tension.

Your feet say,

We remember every ground you walked but never really felt.

We are tired of carrying someone who isn't here.

This is the language of the body.

Poetic.

True in a way that medical language can never quite capture.

So today we are going to give your body space to speak in its own language.

We are going to listen.

Not to fix.

Not to analyze.

Not to solve anything.

Just to listen.

Now.

I know this might sound a bit unusual.

But if you are used to traditional meditation or body scan practices.

You might be wondering.

Will my body actually speak?

Will I hear anything?

What if nothing comes?

And that's okay.

That's normal.

This is a practice.

Not a performance.

We are creating space.

What emerges will emerge.

What stays quiet can stay quiet.

And there is no wrong way to do this.

So let's begin.

Find a comfortable position.

Sitting.

Lying down.

Or however you need to be.

Let your eyes close.

Or soften your gaze downward.

And just arrive here.

Wherever you've been.

Mentally.

Emotionally.

Physically.

You can arrive here with me now.

Take a slow breath in.

And out.

And again.

Breathing in.

And out.

Take one more breath in.

And then slowly breathing out.

You're here now.

Let's listen.

Now before we begin listening to specific parts of your body.

I want to help you shift how you're paying attention.

Now most of the time.

We listen to our bodies.

We assess.

We diagnose.

We categorize.

This is tight.

This is sore.

This needs to be released.

But today we are listening differently.

We are listening the way you'd listen to poetry.

The way you'd listen to music.

The way you'd listen to someone telling you something important.

In their own language.

So bring your awareness to your body right now.

Your whole body.

And instead of analyzing what you feel.

Just notice.

What wants your attention?

What wants your attention?

Maybe something is calling you.

Maybe something feels heavy.

Or tight.

Or numb.

Or alive.

Don't judge it.

Just notice what's asking to be heard.

And here's the important part.

Whatever you notice.

I want you to get curious about it.

Not in a fixing way.

Not in a why is this there?

How do I make it go away way.

But curious the way you'd be curious with a metaphor.

What is this sensation really saying?

If this could speak.

What would it tell me?

What is this sensation really saying?

If this could speak.

What would it tell me?

And from a somatic perspective.

Every sensation in your body is information.

It's communication.

Your body is always speaking.

You've just maybe never been taught to listen in this way.

So today we practice.

We listen.

And we give your body permission to speak.

In it's own language.

Take another breath with me now.

And now silently say this to your body.

I am here.

I am listening.

You can speak.

I am here.

I am listening.

You can speak.

Not demanding.

Not forcing.

Just inviting.

And now let's begin listening.

To what wants to be heard.

Let's start with your feet.

Bring your awareness down to your feet.

Wherever they are right now.

Maybe they are touching the floor.

Maybe they are tucked under you.

Or maybe they are resting.

And instead of just noticing sensations.

Ask your feet.

If you could speak.

What would you say?

Don't force an answer.

Don't make something up.

Just listen.

Feel into your feet.

And wait to see if something emerges.

Sometimes feet say.

We are tired of carrying you to places you don't want to go to.

Sometimes they say.

We remember every ground.

But you were never here to feel it.

Sometimes they say.

We want to dance.

We want to run.

We want to feel earth again.

And sometimes they say.

Thank you for finally noticing.

We exist.

What do your feet want to tell you?

Not what you think they should say.

What are they actually saying?

Listen for images.

For feelings.

For words that surprise you.

Your feet might speak in metaphor.

We are roots that forgot how to ground.

Or we are always running even when we are still.

Just listen.

And receive whatever comes.

And if nothing comes.

If your feet are quiet.

That's okay too.

Sometimes silence is the message.

Sometimes I don't know how to speak yet.

But silence is what needs to be heard.

Take a moment.

Listen to your feet.

And let them speak their poem to you.

Thank you feet.

Thank you for whatever you shared.

Or didn't share.

Now bring your awareness to your legs.

Your thighs,

Your calves,

Your knees.

The whole length of your legs.

Your thighs,

Your calves and your knees.

The whole length of your legs.

And ask them.

What do you want me to know?

What do you want me to know?

The legs carry us.

They hold us up.

They move us forward.

Or they are tired of it.

Or they have forgotten how.

What are your legs saying?

Now sometimes the legs say.

We are braced.

We've been ready to run for years.

And you never let us.

Sometimes they say.

We are heavy with all the steps we took.

That you didn't want to take.

Sometimes they say.

We want to rest.

We want permission to stop holding you up.

Just for a moment.

And sometimes they say.

We are stronger than you think.

And you can trust us.

Just listen.

What poem are your legs writing?

What are they carrying that you haven't acknowledged?

Don't analyse.

Don't fix.

Just hear them.

Thank you legs.

I hear you.

Now bring your awareness to your belly.

Your abdomen.

The whole soft space below your ribs.

Now this is where we often hold a lot.

Anxiety lives here.

Worry lives here.

Old feelings we couldn't digest also get stuck here.

Ask your belly gently.

What have you been holding that I haven't noticed?

And bellies are wise.

They know things before your mind knows them.

They sense danger.

They feel the truth.

And they hold emotions too big for your chest.

What is your belly saying right now?

Sometimes bellies say.

I have been tight for so long.

I forgot how to be soft.

Sometimes they say.

I am full of feelings you called butterflies.

But they were really fear.

Sometimes they say.

I know the truth before you do.

And you keep ignoring me.

Sometimes they say.

I want to breathe.

I want to expand.

I want to stop being held in.

And sometimes they say.

I am the center of you.

And you treat me like the enemy.

What's your belly's poem?

What has it been trying to tell you?

In somatic work,

We often find that the belly holds what we can't speak.

It holds the fear.

It holds the grief.

The knowing.

The longing.

It's the seat of your gut instinct.

Literally.

So listen.

And really listen.

Listen.

What's living in your belly?

Thank you belly.

Thank you for what you hold.

And thank you for speaking.

Now move your awareness up into your chest.

Your heart space.

And your lungs.

The whole area that expands and contracts with each breath.

This is where we feel emotion.

This is where we hold grief.

And this is where love lives.

Where breath gets shallow when we are afraid.

Ask your chest.

What are you carrying?

Now our chests are like containers.

They hold so much.

The heartbreak that you survived.

The love you couldn't express.

The breath you've been holding for years.

And the grief that has nowhere to go.

What does your chest want you to know?

Now sometimes the chest says I am in a locked room and I forgot where I put the key.

Sometimes they say I am full of old grief that wants to move but doesn't know how.

Sometimes they say I hold all the love you didn't let me hold.

That you can't let yourself give or receive.

And sometimes they say I am heavy.

I am so heavy.

Can someone help me carry this?

Sometimes they say I am lighter than you think.

You just haven't checked in,

In a while.

And sometimes the chest says I remember every time your heart broke and I held you through it.

What is your chest's poem?

What lives in that space between your ribs?

Don't force it.

Just let it emerge.

Your chest might speak in images.

I am an ocean that forgot it can move.

I am a bird in a cage that's actually open.

Just listen,

Feel and receive.

Thank you,

Chest.

Thank you for holding everything you hold.

Thank you for still beating,

Still breathing and still being here.

Now bring your awareness to your throat.

The passageway between your chest and your mouth where voice lives,

Where words get stuck,

Where silence gets held.

Ask your throat now.

What haven't I let you say?

What haven't I let you say?

And throats are interesting.

They're where expression either flows or gets blocked.

They know every word that you swallowed,

Every scream that you silenced and every truth that you kept inside.

What does your throat want to speak?

And sometimes the throat says,

I am full of words that never got to become sound.

Sometimes they say,

I am tired of holding back what wants to come out.

Sometimes they say,

I don't know how to speak anymore.

I have been quiet for so long I forgot my own voice.

And sometimes it says,

I am ready.

I had been ready.

You are the one who won't let me speak.

And sometimes it says,

I ache from all the crying you won't let happen.

So what is your throat's poem?

What wants to move through but hasn't been allowed?

From a holistic perspective,

The throat is the bridge between feeling and expression.

Between what's inside and what can come out.

So when your throat is tight or closed or silent,

There is often something wanting to be said,

Sung,

Cried or released.

So just listen.

What is your throat asking for?

Thank you throat.

Thank you for waiting.

Thank you for holding space for voice even when voice couldn't come.

Now bring your awareness to your jaw and to your face.

The muscles around your mouth,

Your eyes and your forehead.

This is where we hold tension we don't even know we are holding.

Where we clench.

Where we carry expressions we never let ourselves make.

So ask your jaw.

Ask your face.

What are you holding on to?

And sometimes the jaws say I am clenched around anger you won't let yourself feel.

Sometimes they say I am tired.

I have been grinding and clenching for years.

Sometimes they say I hold all the words you bit back.

Sometimes the face says I wear so many masks I forgot what I look like underneath.

Sometimes it says I want to cry and you kept telling me to smile.

What is your jaw saying and what is your face trying to tell you?

Thank you jaw.

Thank you face.

Thank you for expressing what you could and holding what you had to.

Bring your awareness to your shoulders now and your back.

The whole length of your spine.

Shoulders.

Back.

Whole length of your spine.

The muscles that support you that carry you and that hold you upright.

Ask them now.

What have you been carrying for me?

What have you been carrying for me?

Shoulders and backs are where we carry responsibility burdens and other people's emotions.

The weight of the world or our own world at least.

What are yours saying?

Sometimes the shoulders say I am carrying mountains that are not mine.

Sometimes they say I have been up by your ears for so long I don't remember how to drop.

Sometimes the back says I am holding you up even though you never thank me.

And sometimes they say I am one long ache of everything you couldn't say no to.

And sometimes the back says I am stronger than you think but I am also tired.

Sometimes it says you can put it down now.

Whatever you are carrying you can put it down.

What is your back's poem?

And what are your shoulders trying to tell you?

Thank you shoulders.

Thank you back.

Thank you for carrying what you carry for holding me up for being the structure that I lean into.

Now finally bring your awareness to your hands.

These hands touch the world.

These hands create.

They reach.

They push away.

Ask your hands now.

What do you want to let go of?

What do you want to let go of?

And sometimes the hands say we want to create.

We want to make things.

You keep us busy with tasks instead.

Sometimes they say we've been clenched into fists for so long we forgot how to open.

Sometimes they say we want to reach out.

We want to connect.

You keep us folded in your lap.

And sometimes they say we remember everything we've touched.

Every person.

Every surface.

And every moment.

Sometimes they say let us be gentle.

Let us be positive.

We don't have to always be doing.

We can just be.

What are your hands saying?

What poem are they writing in the air?

Listen.

Thank you hands.

Thank you for touching my life.

For creating.

For connecting.

And for being the bridge between me and the world.

Now bring your awareness to your body as a whole.

All of it.

From your feet to your head to your entire system.

And ask your whole body What do you most want me to know?

Not any individual part but your body as totality.

Your body as the home you live in.

Your body as the vessel that has carried you through your entire life.

What does your body,

Your whole body want you to say?

Want to say to you?

Just listen.

Don't force.

Don't imagine.

Just create space and see what emerges.

And now whatever came words images feelings silence that's your body's poem.

That's what your body has been waiting to tell you.

Maybe your body said I am here I have always been here You are the one who left.

Maybe it said I am tired but I am still here.

I am still holding you.

Maybe it said I forgive you.

I forgive you for ignoring me for pushing me for treating me like the enemy.

I forgive you.

Or maybe it said I love you.

Even when you don't love me I love you.

Or maybe it said please come home.

Please come home.

Maybe it said nothing at all but you felt something today you can't name or explain.

So whatever your body said or didn't say that's the poem.

That's the truth that lives in your tissues,

Your bones the space between your heartbeat.

And here's what I want you to understand.

Your body has been speaking in this language your whole life metaphors,

Images,

Feelings that are really messages sensations that carry stories but you were never taught to listen this way.

But now you know,

Now you've practiced and you can come back here anytime.

You can just ask your body what do you want me to know and you can listen for the poem that emerges.

Your body is wise your body is articulate just not in the language of thought.

It speaks in the language of felt experience intuition and of knowing that doesn't need words but sometimes finds them anyway.

Now this is somatic wisdom this is what it means to be in a relationship with your body not just living in it or managing it.

Take a moment feel your whole body and silently or out loud if you're alone say this to your body Thank you Thank you for speaking Thank you for waiting Thank you for listening Thank you for still being here even when I wasn't listening.

Your body hears you your body knows you heard it and that's now the beginning of a different kind of relationship.

We are coming to the end of our time together but not the end of this practice.

This is something you can return to anytime asking your body to speak listening for the poem within.

Take a deep breath in and out.

Feel your body one more time your whole body and notice does it feel different now that you've listened?

Does something feel softer more present or acknowledged?

You don't have to fix anything your body told you you don't have to solve the poems or analyze the metaphors you just have to listen that's the practice.

Listening creates space space creates possibility and possibility creates healing.

I'll say this again listening creates space space creates possibility and possibility creates healing.

Bring gentle movement back wiggle your fingers your toes maybe slowly gently move your head side to side and come back.

If your eyes were closed you can open them your body is always speaking you just have to remember to listen.

Thank you for being here thank you for giving your body space to speak and thank you for listening to the poem within.

Namaste