Your Body Remembers What the World Forgot


The ache, the tears, the chill? That’s your body holding sacred memory beyond logic.


You’ve probably noticed this.

The way your body reacts before your mind can catch up.

The way tears rise unexpectedly during a film or song.

The way certain words seem to hit you “too hard” for no logical reason.


That’s not oversensitivity.

That’s not weakness.


That’s memory.


Your body remembers truths you forgot how to name.

Truths that were once yours before the world told you to be realistic.

Before you were taught that magic, mystery, and myth were childish or imaginary.


But they weren’t.

They were yours.

And your body never stopped protecting them.


Somewhere deep in your system is a version of you that walked in myth, not metaphor.

That knew life had rhythm, pattern, purpose.

That heard the voice of God and called it normal.


That part of you is waking up.

And your body—your breath, your tears, your pulse—

is the first place the myth is rising again.




Teaching Prompt


When was the last time your body reacted before your brain knew why? What if that was memory—not confusion?


You’ve probably noticed this.

The way your body reacts before your mind can catch up.

The way tears rise unexpectedly during a film or song.

The way certain words seem to hit you “too hard” for no logical reason.


That’s not oversensitivity.

That’s not weakness.


That’s memory.


Your body remembers truths you forgot how to name.

Truths that were once yours before the world told you to be realistic.

Before you were taught that magic, mystery, and myth were childish or imaginary.


But they weren’t.

They were yours.

And your body never stopped protecting them.


Somewhere deep in your system is a version of you that walked in myth, not metaphor.

That knew life had rhythm, pattern, purpose.

That heard the voice of God and called it normal.


That part of you is waking up.

And your body—your breath, your tears, your pulse—

is the first place the myth is rising again.




Teaching Prompt

When was the last time your body reacted before your brain knew why? What if that was memory—not confusion?

What memories or visions have you dismissed because they didn’t ‘fit’? What if they’re not imaginations—but scrolls unfolding?

You’ve probably noticed this.

The way your body reacts before your mind can catch up.

The way tears rise unexpectedly during a film or song.

The way certain words seem to hit you “too hard” for no logical reason.


That’s not oversensitivity.

That’s not weakness.


That’s memory.


Your body remembers truths you forgot how to name.

Truths that were once yours before the world told you to be realistic.

Before you were taught that magic, mystery, and myth were childish or imaginary.


But they weren’t.

They were yours.

And your body never stopped protecting them.


Somewhere deep in your system is a version of you that walked in myth, not metaphor.

That knew life had rhythm, pattern, purpose.

That heard the voice of God and called it normal.


That part of you is waking up.

And your body—your breath, your tears, your pulse—

is the first place the myth is rising again.




Teaching Prompt


When was the last time your body reacted before your brain knew why? What if that was memory—not confusion?