to be held

This past weekend, I went to the InterPlay studio in Oakland where so many years ago I began the journey of coming back to my body.

In this place, that at one time was a regular part of my day to day, I remembered how important it is to let one's self be held.

Within a collective of bodies committed to following the wisdom of the soma, we moved and sighed, leaned and rolled, sang and listened. We gave each other space to share the things that too easily get tucked away when we're trying to get through the day.

Though many of us hadn't seen each other in years, our bodies knew what to do. More than a reprieve from our full schedules, or time together felt necessary. Allowing ourselves to play, to be in process and to be a little vulnerable felt like sustenance for navigating the complexity of our world.

Being able to lean on others is essential for all bodies, but especially Black and brown bodies holding spaces for healing work. So many of us offer our skills and yet do not have a community that can hold us in turn.

This dynamic reinforces the very wounds that many of us are seeking to heal. We need spaces were we can simply be and feel that this is enough. We need spaces where we can be messy and not worry that our standing is diminished.

For some of us, our communities slipped through hands due to the forces of the pandemic(s), for others, we have never truly had these connections. And yet, seeing how my own relationship to the group body had atrophied, I recognize community connection as even more essential.

When I work with clients who are healers and caretakers I often ask, what is holding you? Because we are fundamentally interconnected, I know these entities exist. We may just need to think more about them more creatively. Though we are still in a pandemic, we can cultivate community right were we are.

Beyond the human realm, are there animals, landscapes, plants? Then, what might it feel like to go to these beings, with intention, when you need support? In your mind's eye can you imagine letting your body rely on these connections? To lie on something soft? To float? To lean? To be held?

With dropped shoulders,
Kelsey