Adjustments

Trauma is stored in the body. Do you ever note that in people’s little nuances? The rocking back and forth, the quivering, the crossing of the arms, the tightening of the neck. It’s all this ugly and confined and coiled anger and pain and fear that just unravels in some insignificant movement, in just a second. A person’s past can slap you in the face if you care to watch them in motion. The horrors of the world are revealed in the way people move.
Do you think it possible for beauty to be stored in the body, as well? Not just in the face, not the eyes or the mouth. But what about in the feet? What if something that once made someone feel beautiful can trigger them to dance lithely down the crosswalk? Is it more subtle that way, as opposed to pain allowing them to give in to gravity?
I wish for beauty to be stored in the body. In the feet, in the fingertips. I wish for honor and pride to be present in the way you carry yourself. Merriment and hope and recovery.
I wish for our bodies to be less limited. I wish for them to be able to present things other than trauma.