The Transformative quality of Tenderness

“The body is not separate from spirit. It is not less than spirit. It is not an obstacle to spirit. The body is spirit.” — Zenju Earthlyn Manuel, The Way of Tenderness

The concept of tenderness opened up a dialogue in me about conditional love, and specifically the religious unconditional loving god whose love is all but unconditional. And the spiritual self whose conditional existence has love that is all but conditional. An interesting crossroads of existence that this quote summarizes, in my eyes, quite well. 

Tenderness is persistent, open arms, beyond condition. It is beyond race, gender, sexuality, class, etc. 

When I was young, my older sister, for the first time with anybody, was open to me about her sexuality. Being raised the way I was (and having the sister I have), I had no thoughts other than “Wow, I’m so glad to share this knowledge with someone I love, and I’m so glad someone I love could share this knowledge.” But the faith I had been raised in had always taught me to see people with a will separate from God’s, as separate from god. This conditional existence that separates an individual from the divine. If love is the highest commandment, why was hers considered wrong? 

I’ve had many experiences with varying sexuality and gender identities among my encounters with friends, family, and myself. And in all of the moments of sharing, I always noticed; “there is nothing unholy about this moment.” Her truth felt sacred. Honest. Tender. And I realized then that it wasn’t her identity that challenged my faith — it was my faith that refused to make space for her. Obviously, having now significantly moved away from Christianity, my “questioning” of God’s will and rules have been settled. 

Reading The Way of Tenderness, I’m struck by how Zenju Earthlyn Manuel invites us to see the body — in all its complexity, including race, gender, and sexuality — as spirit itself. My departure from Christianity wasn’t a rebellion; it was a return to something deeper. A faith that could hold my sister’s truth — and mine — without condition.

As this idea grows, and as the concept of god and self grows, we continue to receive unconditional love from a conditional source. Even if the idea is that “I only feel loved when the chemicals are flowing in my body.” But all of the stories we’ve created about love and condition are broken down by this quality of tenderness. In a moment, the seemingly eternal experience of suffering is washed clean by your self. Your self is love. 

Perhaps the question I carry now is, “How can we dismantle these stories of love and condition to allow a continuous flow of unconditional tenderness in ourselves and the people around us?”

With love,
Noah ❤