Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Sharing the load

There's a new move afoot in me. Not visible to the naked eye, but about to be made public(ish) here on my blog. Something has nudged me out of my old moorings, and I'm having an interesting time, playing with new ways to inhabit my own skin. My relationship with my body has always been an on-again off-again affair. Tight as a glove (or a slim pink pump) in my early years when - to the amazement of my family - I even skipped home at seven years old with a silver ballet cup in hand. A few years later I was walking on my hands at will, leaping backward on beams and performing all manner of brave or foolhardy bodily contortions.

After that, well, the body and the being took up a more ambivalent relationship, falling in and out of sync. I'd always held fast to the fantasy that deep down in me there was a wellspring of grace, like a smooth liquid mineral store, just waiting to be released, with the right, um, something. But mostly any flow between me and matter was something that got captured into poems or songs, while the body simply bumbled along. I've had a few goes at connecting us up. There was a period when I greeted all my corporeal bits in a meditative act of gratitude before going to sleep. It was a good thing to do, but for whatever reason, wound down, as other good things begun, have been wont to do. It seems in the end it was a conversation that took place from inside my own head. (I'm reminded of a funny quote from Ken Robinson's tedtalk where he talks about academics who use their bodies to take their heads to meetings...)

New paragraph for the new venture - I'm discovering the focus is starting to shift. I'm not sure what the prompt is, but somehow the conscious node has started to move south, and seems perfectly willing to travel about in this body of mine. I'm intrigued to listen out for what parts of my body might be saying. Some parts are bemused; some are humming; others are silent (where did the voice of my shoulders get to?) There's a a realisation, as I head for 60, that this whole organism of mine/me truly is a temporary garment, and it behooves me to get to know it, from the inside out. It's actually quite a relief.

9 comments:

  1. You're intrigued, I'm intrigued. Happy trails, conscious node. :)

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  2. Thank you jb. Perhaps this will be my version of multilingual. x

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  3. Blogger is being obstreperous this morning, Pam. I loved your post, it was witty and moving. I'm where you are exactly, trying to make the acquaintance of 'my corporal bits' and introduce myself to myself at this great age. Thank you. xo

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  4. I, too, at least with the desire to be less estranged, less inclined to view the body (see, didn't even say MY body) with suspicion, like an exotic but somewhat menacing unknown that has sprouted in the garden, demanding attention. Restoration seems all around us. xo

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  5. All the best with that vsm. It's a curious business, advancing with our white flags into our own ever changing terrain. Right now my 'bits' are being quite unfriendly - sore thraot and drippy nose. Do I turn my back, or snuggle in closer? xx pm

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  6. Marylinn, your image brings a smile to my face. (Suddenly I'm seeing my head as a hairy pod an an unpruned gangly stem). I like the notion of restoration. Some reclaiming of abandoned edifaces (pl?) going on. And, dare I say - lovely buildings, deserving of lively habitation. (Talk about mixing the metaphors...) xo

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  7. Pam, this is a beautifully honest and vulnerable post, keep it up. I can see why you're getting such a following of good people dropping in to comment. Thank you for your kind reflections on yesterday's workshop, and for dropping by to let me know.

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  8. Thanks James, lovely to get your comment. All the best with your heart sourced eye-opening work.

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