February
to be in my body, to be in my body, to be in my body, to be in my body, to be in my body. February 1st, 2021 As I slip into my car in the early morning light, my body tenses as it meets the frigid interior. I sit still, willing for the tiny space to warm quickly. I grit my teeth, grab my ice scraper from the passenger seat, and climb back outside to chip away at the icy surface stretching across my windshield. Once I arrive at work, I am disappointed that my toes still sting from the cold, despite my wool socks and sturdy boots. Unfortunately, the heat blasting from the dashboard doesn’t seem to quite meet the lowest part of my body. I will my blood flow to increase to my toes, to rush each one with a tingling warmth. I care for my body. I try to keep it warm in the winter - to wear mittens when I grip the cold steering wheel, to moisturize my skin when it cracks, to stay inside and practice mediation and fill my lungs with clean breaths. I trust my body. But at times...