Written with my Tuesday writing group with the prompt: the body loves slowness. A bit of a farewell to summer!
Sound is fast. Light is faster. The pungent scent of sour milk hits our nostrils fast and hard and bring instant tears to our eyes. But the body loves slowness. The body is heavy, whether lumbering along or gracefully dancing. Moving requires exertion, the awareness of weight. The body is solid, the body likes to feel its feet sinking into sand or wet grass, toes curling, knowing the power of height and strength.
As a child I was taught that the body was a shell, a vehicle to carry the spirit and/or the soul. The spirit is light, in both meanings of the word: the spirit is weightless and the spirit is illumination. But the body has its own wisdom, its own way of learning, gathering sensory input, then easing into intuitive leaps, knowledge that begins with a tightening of the larynx or adrenaline fluttering in the hollow where the ribs flare together, a knowing beyond words and image, an instinctive certainty, a mysterious connection with earthy environment as well as unseen realities.
I like my body when it is swimming slowly, underwater, the pressure of the water gentle on my muscles, on my shoulders and hips. I feel protected by my body’s natural buoyancy. I slow down. I feel joy.