What Ramesses II Taught Me About Vitality, Ritual, and Coming Home to My Own Bones
Being Bold in Egypt – Awakening #9: Reclaiming the Body as a Modern Sed Festival
When Breath Became Ceremony
If Awakening #8 was about piecing together fractured identity through the story of Hatshepsut, Awakening #9 takes that restoration inward — into ligaments, lungs, and rituals of renewal.
The lesson didn’t arrive with fireworks. It arrived with collapse.
One week into Egypt, after a cascade of temples and myths, I found myself in Luxor, breathless under the desert sun. Not from awe — but from depletion.
I sat. I sipped. I listened — not to a guide or god — but to the ache behind my ribcage.
I wasn’t just tired… I was disembodied.
Somewhere between Aswan and Cairo, I had abandoned the very container carrying me.
Ramesses and the Art of Returning
That’s when Ramesses II floated to mind from the tour. We’d seen his statue on day one — stoic, erect, despite arthritis, heart disease, and dental agony. The man ruled for 66 years. He lived to nearly 90. And at 80-something, he still showed up for the Sed Festival.
Not just a ritual. A statement.
A ceremonial lap — symbolic, slow, sovereign — between markers of Upper and Lower Egypt. Surrounded by children and queens. Painted eternally youthful on limestone walls. Maybe he leaned on a staff. Maybe he winced.
But his movement said: “I am still king. I still reign. I still move.”
That moment became my invitation.
My Sed Festival: Breath. Stretch. Sovereignty.
Since returning, I’ve asked myself often: What is my Sed Festival?
It’s not a marathon or a fitness trend in Equinox. It’s this:
Second Wind Breath: Inhale for four… hold… exhale for six. Each breath, a soft rebellion against fatigue. A new wind catching in old lungs.
Reach for the Sky: Arms stretching upward. A side sway left, then right. Spine elongating like a date palm. Movement not to sculpt, but to stand again.
Self-Appreciation: A hand over heart. A whisper: “I am grateful for my resilience.” Sovereignty begins with self-regard.
These are my laps between the visible and invisible. Small acts, sacred acts.
Not to resist aging.
Not to chase youth.
But to reign — deliberately, symbolically, unapologetically — over the body I inhabit now.
The Koffeemocha Reflection
Since launching this newsletter, I’ve written much about identity and transition. But Egypt reminded me: reflection without embodiment is hollow.
Ramesses II didn’t just decree. He demonstrated. He moved. He stood. Even in pain.
And so must we.
Movement is not indulgence. It is maintenance for meaning.
Hydration is not a checklist. It’s reverence for the vessel.
Ritual is not nostalgia. It’s architecture for presence.
We reclaim our bodies not to impress. But to endure.
Not to compete. But to belong — to ourselves.
Encore Is Not Retreat
In the Valley of the Kings, I slowed down — not out of weakness, but finally, wisdom.
At this stage of life, movement doesn’t need to be grand. It needs to be true.
Each step that day — slow, conscious — became a modern Sed Festival.
A ritualized reentry into vitality.
A bow to the earth.
A thank you to the flesh that stayed.
✅ Legacy Wellness Checklist
☐ One movement that reminds you: I still reign.
☐ One breath practice that clears the fog and returns you to now.
☐ One whisper of gratitude to your body—for showing up, again.
💬 What is your Sed Festival? What movement will you reclaim — not to be younger, but to be fully here?
Kefei, koffeemocha in NYC