Anchor in a shit-storm.

Photography by Kate Gillett

The body always brings us back when the mind has lifted off, coiled in worry, chasing ghosts. It is the solidity of flesh, its warmth, its stretch, its beat and breath. It brings us back, reminds us of what we are. It tangibly connects us to the earth, and anchors us to the present. When all else fails, we can always come back here. To just what is. Sore or easy, tight or lose, inhale or exhale. Always here. Always present. Always changing. Reminding us of what life is. Both inhale and exhale. Pain and joy. That all is passing, and all is coming. We can always come back here. Back to the body, when the mind has lifted off.