Penny for your thoughts, a nickel for your kiss, and a dime if you tell me that you love me.

The most extraordinary thing happened while I was drowsing in bed this morning. I was idly thinking, like I do; this time about lifting heavy things and being sore. Without much consideration, I thought "I love you, body." My whole body just flared, a rush of sensation like a flush or a pulse of heat. It was quite a sensation, one I've never had.

That made me think more. Do I never tell my body that I love it? God knows I push it hard enough. Do more yoga and do it better! Ignore that muscle fatigue and do as I say! If that stretch hurts, hold it longer! Run around that and if you're tired, pick it up! Jump in cold water! Lift that heavy thing! Lift it again! And my sweet obedient body tries, until it can't and I condemn it again. Do I never say thank you?

I should say thank you, for all the things it brings me, like riding my bike and good tastes and listening to music and grooving when the music is thumpy and all the sensations of touch and breath. Have I been ungrateful and unloving this whole time? Do I only ever address my body to tell it to do more or to note a failure? Has my body been waiting all these years to hear that I love it, that it did right, thank you, I love you, you didn't let me down, you never let me down, we're in this together, you did great. I will notice and I will say it, from now on. I love you, my body. Thank you.