I am a materialist.
Which is to say, I’ve come to value the sensations and impressions that I can experience through this embodied existence, of living in a human body.
Depending on your view, “materialist” can carry negative connotations. It can bring forth the energy of a science where nothing other than what can be physically measured is seen as real or valid. Or it can be equated with a person who is using their material possessions as a way of propping up their ego.
And that view is exactly why I used to deny myself the right to enjoy anything that had to do with physicality. Or at the very least, I believed it to be lower on the hierarchy than the realms of the mind. Which also made me devalue my physical body.
For the longest time, I lived in my mind, or somewhere up in space, feeling disconnected from my body.
I wanted to escape my human form, because I felt so alienated from myself and humanity as a whole.
And I believe I disconnected - and disassociated - from my body when I experienced an event where my body no longer felt like mine. Where it was used by someone else as though I was not an agent of my own life. As though I had no right over my own body.
So I placed my body inside a bubble, shielded by big t-shirts. And when I worked in a workplace with mostly male colleagues, my body expressed in a more masculine way in an attempt to fit in and to stay safe. Not because those people were unsafe but because my body simply felt unsafe, after what it had experienced. I was simply doing what I had to do, as existing inside of that protective bubble.
But now that bubble has burst.
Those big old t-shirts no longer fit. My body feels wrong inside them. And I no longer care if my red lipstick sticks out like a sore thumb. I feel more like myself when I’m wearing it. Or more like the version of myself that I currently want need choose to be.
But more than makeup, my body enjoys the feeling of natural fabrics. Synthetic materials just don’t work anymore. This is a shift that I’ve read happens to many women after giving birth. Whatever the reason, I had to discard most of my old synthetic clothes (acrylic and polyester) and my wardrobe is starting to look empty.
Empty, if you compare to the colorful (yet synthetic) treasure trove of my teens or twenties. And yet, there’s a beauty in simplicity. I might not have as many clothes anymore, but the ones I do have I thoroughly enjoy.
I feel like I’m in the process of learning about respecting the essence of something, instead of only being drawn to a sparkly surface (though there’s nothing wrong with sparkly, sometimes sparkles can be fun too. But it’s simply not the season I’m in right now.)
And through this process of respecting my body enough to give it the fabrics it wants to feel, I am finding my way back into appreciating this embodied existence.
In reconnecting with my sense of touch, and the simple beauty of experiencing different materials, I’ve found my way back to myself, to my body.
And through my body, I’ve found my way back to a connection with the world. Including humanity.
I’ve come to understand my body as an interface between me and the world. A portal transmitting and receiving sensations, impressions and expressions.
And my mind is also a part of this body/portal.
In the end, it doesn’t actually matter if it’s my “mind” or my “physical body” that are sending me the signals, because, after so many years of experiencing a split where body and mind were at war, I feel that they are finally starting to work together.
This piece of writing is a spell where I am reclaiming the word “materialist” and imbuing it with all the juicy, joyful pleasures of my embodied, human existence.
Celebrating the material realm is my way of bringing my full Self, physicality and spirit alike, into a balance.
A communion.
What a wonder it is to exist with/in this strange, mundanely magical machinery that we call a body.
I hope that as you are reading these words, you can feel some of that magic with/in yourself as well.
But sometimes it is easier for the body to receive images instead of just words (words feel more like abstractions belonging to the realm of the mind, or what do you think?) So to balance this post out and provide the body with some visual materials to react to, I will end it with a few of my collages that I think speak more directly to the body.
In addition to this, I encourage you to connect with your sense of touch. A simple exercise is noticing how the air feels around you, or how your clothes feel on your skin. Or just touch whatever surface or material you have at hand.
May this spell support you in experiencing the beauty of your embodied existence.
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