Defining a Somatic Faith

It’s something without words, though words anchor it. To be all head and no heart is to miss it. To forget we breathe through our thoughts, transmuting them through our bones, feeling life as it unfolds each second — theology is a practice as much as knowledge we can store up. And mostly, we bind it up. We dry it out, wrap it tight and bundle it with twine.

But we also need to strike the match and watch it burn, following the smoke up to the changing clouds. To a sun that’s never restless. To a moon that slowly undresses, and then covers herself up again. We are just as much these shifting forms. Anchored in something unseen (yet true), collecting the ash in a bowl and drawing a cross on our forehead in the dark.