How To Love the Body Through the Transformational Power of Poetry

Our bodies remember and speak truth to us.

Photo by Angela Roma : https://www.pexels.com/photo/crop-black-model-with-shiny-delicate-skin-7479950/

Do you ever look back at old pictures of yourself and think, "Damn, I looked great!" At the ripe age of 60, I wonder why I ever complained about my appearance throughout my 20s, 30s, 40s, and 50s.

And I complained A LOT.

I was unhappy about the mini-volcanos on my face and back (" bacne"). Their inflamed existence affirmed my hormones were surging as the fertile momma I once was.

Monthly, my abdomen grew so bloated, that in order to go to work, I would battle into an iron vice known as Spanx or control top pantyhose or both, depending on my level of disgust.

In the mirror, I mourned the dark circles underscoring my bloodshot allergic eyes, barely visible blonde eyebrows, and ill-tempered hair standing upright where I wanted them to lay flat.

I realize I’m still scrutinizing my imperfections.

I'm so tired of doing this. My body doesn't deserve it. I'm appalled at my lack of appreciation and compassion for what my body's been through.

What I've put it through.

With every wrinkle, sag, and stretch mark, my body still keeps me threaded together.

Each body part remembers things I’ve long forgotten. I only recently understood the integrity of my body to tell the truth. Dr. Bessel van der Koelk's book, "The Body Keeps the Score," introduced me to the concept, but now I know it even more deeply.

I have one woman to thank for this.

I'm not sure how I was lucky enough to encounter

Corie Feiner

, Poet Laureate Emeritus of Bucks County, Pennsylvania, and an award-winning author, performance poet, and slam champion. The algorithm gods beamed a light on me the day I subscribed to her free newsletter.

Corie speaks to me intimately through her poems about yoga, like this one about sphinx pose and this one about side plank. As a yoga student and teacher, her words encapsulate the essence of the poses.

I am awed by her ability to do this.

In February, I enrolled in a poetry class with Corie called "Bodylove Poetry Writing Workshop" on Sunday mornings. Each week, Corie focuses us on a different body part.

At first, I was reluctant to commit to this class. Sunday mornings at 10 a.m. wasn't a timeslot I was eager to fill. Plus, I knew squat about writing poetry.

Then she offered a sample Bodylove class, and I put aside my misgivings and signed up. Besides, it was free.

What did I have to lose?

After discussing "Belly Good," by Marge Piercy, Corie asked us to write our own poems.

Something happened to me as words bubbled up.

My belly spoke through a wave of salty tears. It reported every jagged edge of feeling unloved. It wasn’t only me that was the source of its pain, but society also had contempt for my belly. The only time it was allowed to exist was when it held a baby. After that, it was to be flat—neither seen nor heard.

The knowledge broke me open.

It was enlightening.

And healing.

I was in.

I write poetry with Corie and eight other ladies on Sunday mornings. I'm a beginner amidst beautiful poetry writers. Together we make a sacred space as we listen to each other’s wisdom.

Poetry has sparked an awareness of how powerful words can be. It has a way of parsing the profound into a rhythmic intelligence.

Maybe one day I will have the courage to share one of my poems with you.

Please let me know in the comments if any of you, dear community members, write poetry. If you’ve published poetry online, please drop a link as well.

I’d also love to hear how your favorite poem has affected you.