Blood. The portal through which our cells receive oxygen and vital nutrients.
Plasma, red blood cells, white blood cells and platelets.
Let’s not forget memories and trauma. I think that should be added to its definition.
I still remember walking into an integrative clinic and looking at an IV bottle filled with a patient’s blood as he was receiving a red ozone treatment and being able to tell his ancestral story as well as see what was occurring metabolically. I recall seeing his grandfather in a war, adorned with metals on his jacket. His mother’s hands were worn from working in the garden, he was deficient in various nutrients and some retroviral imprints were floating around.
The fluids of our bodies can tell as much of our story as can our words. As unsafe as many of us feel inside this holy temple created by heaven and earth,
our bodies offer us the safest healing passage within this earthen element provided by the gods.
We can “leave” our bodies as much as we want while we move through this life, triggered by thought, emotion or experience.
But something always pulls us back. The cells of our bodies grasp onto memories and transport them to different realms, our blood provides a boundary so that some of those traumatic thoughts are forgotten by our minds. Our tissues are always looking for ways to protect us from harm.
And yet all they ask for is our attention, our acknowledgment. A prayer of gratitude.
A reservoir of ancestral stories that are alive within you, your body has the capability of transmuting those stories for potent healing medicine.
It also has the capability of sparking a grace so fierce that any trauma you carry can be silenced into the arms of God.
The flow of blood so smooth that one could hear the laughter of their grandparents.
The incredible transparency of cells that one could see the familial trauma.
The aggregate of all the bodily parts that define our form in this lifetime.
We flounder our whole lives trying to figure out what makes us safe in this world.
Escaping the very vessel which tells more of our story than we could ever imagine.
Come back into yourselves.
To the temple which houses a thousand stories.
Your trauma is as worthy as your triumph.