I recently finished reading Alice Walker’s By the Light of My Father’s Smile. In this book, there is a ritual between parents and their children when the children are marrying or becoming a part of a couple. The parents kiss important parts of the child’s body: the feet, the palms, the elbows, the stomach, and other areas. It is a way of telling that child (an adult, actually) that his or her body is sacred and beautiful and ready to be shared with another.

There is a passage that I love because it talks about kneeling:

When the time came, and I knelt before her, I kissed not only her palms and the arches of her feet, which seemed to buzz with energy, but also her knees. Because, after all, it is to our knees that we must sometimes be driven, before we can recognize, witness, or welcome our own light.

This resonated with me. When I kneel, I do recognize my own light. I’m driven to my knees by so many things. I do it out of devotion. I do it out of need. I do it out of desire to please. I do it because it feels right. I do it because that’s where I want to be.

Kneeling is a part of the divine. Kneeling is a part of worship.

People kneel in prayer. People kneel when they are overcome by emotion.

Kneeling is sacred and beautiful.