This morning, before my workout, I placed my hand on my heart, turned inward, and asked myself: who is present today?
I workout at home, by choice, because it allows me to listen.
Is a tired part more present today? Is there an anxious part that wants to lift? Is there a part that simply wants to move because she knows it feels good? Sometimes, as I move, other parts show up. When they do, I welcome them. I say hello and often make a quiet promise to check back in during my walk, which usually happens after. Sometimes that works. Sometimes it doesn't, and those parts take over the movement anyway.
This wasn't always how I approached movement.
I started incorporating daily walks about two years ago. At first, they were simply another way to move my body. I filled them with podcasts, stayed occupied, distracted. My body loved the movement, but I didn't feel connected to myself. When I began my workday, parts would surface unexpectedly, catching me off guard. I didn't know how to change this.
It wasn't until the last six months that something shifted. A part suggested something different – that I check in with my system during my workouts and my walks. That's when I began to feel more connected to myself.
Parts still get activated, but now I have a better sense of the landscape at the start of the day. I can stay present with what's already there. Curiosity replaces surprise, and there's more space to understand why certain parts are showing up.
This practice has allowed me to be more present in my daily life, not only with myself, but with others.
What if simply moving my body wasn't enough for me? I needed it to be intentional. I needed it to include my parts… to welcome all of them, even the critical ones, because they are there for a reason.
Maybe movement asks this of you too. Not just to move, but to listen while you do.
