What if instead of trying to write as fast as I can or at the pace of my mind... I wrote at the pace of my body?
Maybe I often feel tired because of this dissonance... of trying to match my body to my thinking mind's pace.
What I truly desire is to ground my mind into my body's pace...
I deserve at least cross-consideration.
There is such a force in the cognitive arena... bu what of the ever-powerful yet subtle enigmas of my nervous system, my physiology, my spirit...?
The conscious, thinking mind is not my enemy nor my master... it is just a factor. Not lesser or better, but certainly not as primordial as my physical awareness, sensory origins... layers of my presence.
Rest is a reclamation. So is slowing down. So is stretching, moving, taking up space, taking my time, sensing in, seeking, allowing space...
When I am being this way, I am honoring my ancestors and creating a better future... all in the present.
My body honoring is a permission slip reminder to others. It ripples out and offers a wider net, a weaving web for the world we witness in our hearts. Coexisting, collaborating...
I can titrate. Pause. Take deeper breaths. Use body language and pause words to give the ever-rapid conversations room to breathe. It's all a practice. It's all perspective.
They say the sun is all action, forward drive. And maybe so. But the sun still moves at a slower pace than we feel, think, act, live... if we lived by the daylight once again we would know. When I feel the sun on my skin I remember this.
What would it be like to practice this for even 5 minutes?
In grounded gratitude,
• • •
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