Embodied Presence as Identity

Collection: Identity & Reflection

In Part 1 of this series on identity, I highlighted the difference between naming and labelling, and the search for a personal label as ‘participation ticket’ for life.

In Part 2 on professional and spiritual identity, I looked at what we can learn from the auto-ethnographic practice of disclosing various selves in research situations. I also discussed the effects of Christianity on the suppression of pagan traditions in northwestern Europe, and nature-based spirituality as part of our generic spiritual DNA.

Today I share a few final reflections including what groups celebrate their differences with ‘prides and games’, and which ones remain invisible? What are the effects of woke ideology on fear of expression and loss of voices, and an invitation for embodied presence as one characteristic of our shared humanity.

Pride & Games

There is something joyful in the word Gay Pride, which always lifts my spirit. Visibly reclaiming different sexualities and genders breathes a wild freedom. Then there are the Paralympic Games, which put different-abled athletes in the spotlight. Rising above a specific challenge serves as an incredible inspiration for many.

But can you imagine a Woman Pride, Chronic Patient Games, or an Elderly Fest in a similar way? It intrigues me that some identities cause such surge of energy and joy, while being a woman, a patient, or a person of age isn’t something we are allowed to be proud of. On the contrary, it’s something ‘hidden’ and unmentioned, preferably invisible, and definitely uncelebrated.

In this respect I’d like to draw attention to exceptions such as The Red School (Pope and Hugo Wurlitzer) – all about the power of menstruality, and books like Hagitude (Blackie, 2022) about hags with an attitude. Blood, menopause and wrinkles don’t just ‘happen’ to women, they are part of our identity. Do we let it shackle and imprison us, or do we boldly reclaim this creational powerhouse that we are, and the deep-seeing we acquire as we are shedding our fertile years? I’d proudly be part of a Wild Hag Parade! Who else is in?

Woke Ideology

In some ways, these posts echo my discomfort with the woke ideology. It started in a specific, African American, cultural context almost a century ago now. Originally it meant being well-informed and alert to racial prejudice and discrimination. It encouraged people to question the dominant paradigm and strive for better solutions (Oxford English Dictionary and Merriam-Webster Dictionary).

It gained more and more traction since the ‘70s, as it was embraced by identity activists, and now includes anything related to race, gender, and sexual identity. Addressing inequality in all of these areas remains essential. Yet the strive for political correctness violently attacks and silences anyone who doesn’t “speak the speak” or happens to fall outside of a particular group-identity. If you don’t sing the right tune, you risk being ostracised or attacked. Proudly ‘naming’ and ‘owning’ differences is a wonderful thing, until it too becomes a form of oppression.

Fear of Expression & Loss of Voices

Language is one of the windows through which we make sense of the world. I’m not a linguist, but familiar enough with 4 or 5 languages to know that each has an almost mathematical grammatical structure, and its own character, temperament, rhythm, and ways of forming thoughts into words and sentences. While my English is good, I’m not a native speaker. The fear of saying the wrong thing because I don’t grasp all sensitive nuances, silences me. My breath gets shallow. My throat feels constricted. And I rather keep quiet than join the call for a shared humanity and dignity, despite feeling that deeply too. 

I believe the loss of other voices than the loudest, the boldest, the quirkiest, the most self-confident (or aggressive), is perhaps one of the saddest effects of labelling identities. This has happened to me both in my academic environment and in my work as soulful entrepreneur. 

In the first, I developed a Somatics Toolkit for Ethnographers, to look at the body as research instrument and bodily self-care in and after challenging fieldwork situations. I posed that it doesn’t matter if your skin is green or blue, if you miss a limb or an organ, have lots of energy or only a little, to meaningfully engage with your own (and no-one else’s) body. What mattered for me in that context is embodied presence. This statement caused a storm of critique. I was accused of neo-liberalist and colonialist views, because only someone in a white body could have the ignorance to dismiss colour. Yet they never had a comeback about living with chronic pain and invisible disability. 

In the second, when inviting transwomen to my women-only workshops, people told me off for buying into the conspiracy theory, because ‘trans’ doesn’t exist, according to this particular activist. I should do my homework, or otherwise shut up.

Invitation for Embodied Presence

It’s interesting how scary it was to write these posts. Should, or shouldn’t I share my personal dance with such questions? Would I get fried and burned? Would people feel offended? Who was I anyway, to comment on this? 

Yet I think we need to include questions like:

• How ‘at home’ are you in your body (whatever colour, size, shape)?

• How much are you aware of your inner reality, of minute connections between mood and food, between rest and energy, between emotional shock and physical response?

• Can you meaningfully include body, heart, and mind interactions in different situations to make more supportive decisions for yourself and those around you?

• Dare you let yourself flow out into the world, and the world flow back into you?

• Can you see your body as your ultimate companion who is with you every moment of your life?

• Might you consider your body, your identity, indeed your entire being, as a landing strip for spirit?

• Do you recognise your body as a unique expression of the Beloved or the Mystery, whatever names you know it by?

For sure, as Xochitl wrote, “our self-identify and discovery is not a straight-forward and easy path.” We need to continue to address power relations and human rights. However, I propose that dignity and bodily sovereignty should not (only) rely on labels, but also on the lived, physical experience of being in the body. Can we see that as shared seat of our humanity? Wherever we were born, whatever our experiences, we are shaping our identity and connecting to life from within our physicality – and indeed, we are all, Human, Just Human!

What do you think?

I would love to hear your reflections! How is your sense of self-expression encouraged or stifled by the current practice of self-identifying, and identifying others? Does it help or hinder you?

The small print...

• Blackie, S. (2022). Hagitude. Reimagining the Second Half of Life. Tewkesbury, UK. September Publishing.

• Red School, cofounded by Alexandra Pope and Sjanie Hugo Wurlitzer, who offer a variety of books and courses on the topic of menstruality.

• Somatics Toolkit for Ethnographers, with lots of free practices, movement inquiries, resources, blogs and podcasts.