Art of Becoming

Throughout my life, something happens when I start painting.  

I don’t know what it is about painting, but it helps me viscerally locate where I am—especially in times of transition. Making art has this generous ability to capture a moment without caging it inside a prefab solution. 

We often relegate art to catharsis or easeful expression, as if it lacks the rigor required for “serious work.” But making things demands discipline, focus, and forward motion. Art also carries clues and keys—guides to help us move with what remains unresolved: in our hearts, in our bodies, in our lives, in the world. 

Art breathes with contradiction, mess, humor, and friction—and somehow makes something within it. 

What I’m pointing toward is the practice of living with what’s beyond our understanding, and the tools required to keep creating while something is still in the process of revealing itself to us.

Bodies are often placed in the “controllable” box of science, yet much of living in a body is about letting it unveil itself over time. 

In my experience, the wellness industry struggles in this place. It’s obsessed with marrying every pain point to a “right plan,” always promising an arrival point. It thrives on the fantasy of completion.

Meanwhile, we live in an era of information glut—biohacks and labels and programs to fix everything. 

But embodiment is not naming your wounds or manifesting your bliss. 

Embodiment is being with ourselves—known and unknown—simultaneously. 

Perhaps embodiment is the degree to which we can stay present to ourselves, allowing more of life to reveal itself to us. 

Being In Body Coaching lives at the intersection of the quiet, ordinary acts of making a life and the magic that arises when we show up for ourselves—even when the outcome is uncertain. 

Sound like making art? 

It is. 

Sitting down to write, facing a blank page, meal prepping for your health, rolling out your mat, getting enough sleep—these daily, ordinary steps accumulate. And if we let them change us, they lead us somewhere new. 

After decades of working with the body, what I know is this: our vitality lives where the ordinary meets the mystery. Where movement—however simple—touches the edge of who we are becoming. 

These thresholds of change, in our bodies, our work, our becoming, ask something of us. They ask for a deeper listening. A quieter participation. 

They ask us to enter the art of making ourselves. 

With love, 

Erin