|Russian-Moldovan dinner - first course|
But it's do-able, it is.
That's one thing those pauses are really good for. The silences. The time we take to exhale and just linger a bit before inhaling again. When we slow down our thoughts, slow down our feet, calm our movements, and find a place to rest, to be. To be without running, without doing, without chasing the clock. To be with ourselves and nurture ourselves, preparing. Mending all the little holes and snags and details that rushing past we overlook, the potholes which, when we slow down, we realize just how taxing they are.
My body seems to have a way of letting me know - Here, and not another step. Chill the * out, it says. And when I don't listen, it makes me. And I resent it, I do. It just gets in the way of all the items on my agenda when my back decides to hamper my movements and my tired legs don't lift my feet enough so I cut a nice little chunk of skin off my big toe on the pavement. If that's not enough, it might just decide to catch a cold or something - the cherry on top. Didn't hear me? says my body, Well maybe you'll hear this!
My body gets in my way.
My body that does so much for me, that carries me from point A to point B, and if a detour catches my eye on the way, it'll go along with me even during those in-between parts. Drives me from city to city. Embraces and expresses what I've got going on on the inside, so at least I know one person out there understands me: Me.
Your body is your temple. Your body is you.
|Ben Franklin Bridge - view from Old City, Philadelphia|