"I sing the body electric," wrote Walt Whitman. Yes, I feel that. Our bodies are spaces that sing.
Your body is a space that knows. My body is a space that knows. It knows this little life to be an in-breath and an out-breath, a mere breeze brushing a blade of grass. It is falling like drops of rain, and evaporating even as I write this.
My body is a space that can choose to breathe deeply with the wind, and cry freely with the rain. It can sing with the birds and dance the electric current that Whitman described. Because my body is a space that lives. And my body is a space that dies.
My body is a space that sees, and it is a space that sings. I choose to sing for the sake of singing, to dance for the sake of dancing, and to live as freely as is possible with my whole body, just as it is. I choose this freedom.