A few weeks ago, I stretched out across a plastic table and let my body be rubbed into near-bliss by the hands of my newly discovered massage therapist, who I am firmly convinced has magic coursing through her veins. As we neared the end of our time together, I tried to consciously enter deep inside the sacred space I share with my body, feeling the connection and awareness that having every inch of yourself touched brings. I slowed my breathing and quieted thoughts, and listened to myself. I asked my body what she needed from me. Slowly, tentatively, she answered me back, “Feed me, please.”
I realized as I lay there that I had not eaten breakfast that morning.… Read the rest!