We are all constantly gathering stories. Our bodies act as an evolving document.
This history tells us how to act, how to feel, how to move around our surroundings, and how to be with other people. Sometimes we have physical traces like a scar or a mark, but even if it’s not physically visible, the history that we’ve experienced are all stories we have gathered. The act of gathering is unavoidable and may seem automatic, but are we willing to do the work of unpacking and sharing them?
Our bodies becomes a historical vessel, but for some reason we are constantly asked to prove ourselves. For what? For who? And does it really track what we find important, our experience, our real self?
I wonder when we started prioritizing paper over experience and people.