Where is the high wire? The trapeze? The death-defying leaps? Instead, the aerialist brings you down from the air. Off the freeways. Into your body.

“Breathe. Bend. Slow it all down.”

At first you resist. Then, bit by bit, you become silk.

“Close your eyes. Lie down. Stretch your body. Imagine your body. What does it look like?”

It is long. So long. The spine stretches like a rod. A spine. Steel and central.

“Now your hands. What about your hands. Imagine them…”

What’s this? The hands…they expand. They curl out like autumn leaves. Dry, fragile, symmetrical.

“What about your head,” Bianca says. “Imagine…all the way down to your feet…”

One foot is curled over the other. They are twisting. Roots, growing and gnarled. Twisted into the earth.

Tears slide down your face. You are Daphne. Chased by Apollo. As he chases, and reaches, and touches…your body quickly turns into a tree…as he clutches your diaphanous gown, your strong young leg hardens and twists into a root. Descends into the ground. Bark encases your lithe torso…

“Now keep your eyes closed. And draw your body the way you saw it. Don’t open your eyes.”

By now, tears are warm against your cheeks. Like rings of a tree, you feel violence against women — strikes against cheeks, ligatures on necks, brutal beatings around the head — they shudder through your body. Through time. Where is this coming from?

You flash on the gorgeous 40′ tall sculpture from Burning Man. You were all transfixed. All 68,000 of you. Truth is Beauty. She was gorgeous from every angle. At night. In daylight.

The inscription at her base read:

“What would the world be like if women were safe?”

“What would the world be like if women were safe?”

You are at a one-day workshop. Physical Text. Bianca Sappetto, an aerialist, leads you through this exercise. The co-teacher and your friend, Jillian Lauren — author, performer, mom, rock wife who once spent time in a harem and wrote a book about it — she gets it right away.

“We are taught as women to leave our bodies behind. Only then can we be safe.”

You didn’t expect this collective story to ripple through your body. You didn’t realize how much you absorb the violence, the threat, and how it shapes you. Warps you. How you recognize the fear and hiding in others. How you want to make them feel safe. Draw it forth. The safety net you offer is story.

What moves you on the deepest level? Are you expressing yourself with courage? Does your essence come through your business?

Try this exercise. Carve some sacred space for yourself. Put on some comfortable clothes. Roll out a mat. Have pen and paper near by. Now breathe deeply. Concentrate on each part of your body. Still yourself. Then sink into a pure pose. Whatever way your body surrenders. And when you’re ready, get up — eyes still closed — and draw that pose as you imagine it. Imagine your body.

Now open your eyes. What do you see? What insights flood in?

We’d love to know how this exercise works for you. If you, too, experience something profound. If you gain insights. Tell us how you let them inform your business writing. Your blogs, your ezines, your talks.

Thank you for being part of our collective consciousness. Our fiery community. We are experiencing the conversation on a cellular level.

Can you feel it?