Tuning In…Embracing the Inner Language of Body and Creativity

How slowing down and listening to our bodies can transform our health, creativity, and understanding of self.

Finding what is uniquely yours demands more than mere rationality; it requires learning to understand the language of your body. As Boyd Varty suggests, "You have to learn how your body speaks."

Much of my current work revolves around breathwork, embracing a slower pace, and tuning into my inner experiences.

I'm not exaggerating when I say that I spent the first half of my life doing quite the opposite.

Instead of looking inward, I pushed forward, completely ignoring the signals my body was trying to send me.

However, like anything that imparts wisdom in our lives, I have matured and become more at ease with who I am. I've had to embrace a new way of life, one that not only recognizes but is perhaps even thankful for the lessons illness has brought me. This change has sparked a deeper curiosity about my true self.

“How do you know you love something? How do you feel when you are fully expressing yourself? Learn that feeling and then start looking, not for the thing, but for the feeling,” advises Boyd Varty.

Seeking a feeling rather than an object.

To maintain a semblance of health, I find myself searching for a particular feeling almost every hour. My body reminds me of the ocean: it swells with inflammation and then recedes back to normalcy.

And just as one cannot battle the ocean, I've learned not to resist the wave of malaise that washes over me. Instead, I must surrender to it, and even more, actively co-create with my illness.

I need to cultivate an awareness surrounding this concept, particularly in my creative endeavors.

I can't visualize the path ahead, but I can feel it. It offers subtle hints, shaping a sensation: this feels right, that doesn't; this feels expansive, that feels restrictive; this feels rushed, that feels paced.

The journey is more solitary than I anticipated. It's as if I'm on an island, attempting to rebuild my creative life, casting glances around and wondering, "Does anyone want to join me?"

But ultimately, the new creative voice I’m working towards is uniquely mine. To forge something so distinctly personal, I've come to accept that it largely needs to be done in solitude. Perhaps there's no other way to truly listen to how my body speaks.