I wrote this in a short burst in my writing group time in 2018. Now as I train to be a somatic coach, I recognise the beginnings of focusing and looking inwards. In the chapter – Writing as a practice, Goldberg talks about the need to practice whether you want to or not.
I’m taking this to heart and have built in a half an hour each day to write.
Only writing is writing.
Mind over matter
So many parts of me, all connected by sinew, tendon, cartilage, nerves and more. I ignore my body until it starts to hurt when it puts on the brakes and calls me out. Stop, stop, stop – a pounding migraine in my head, the throbbing pain in my neck and the sharp stabbing pain in my knee. Up until the pain arrives, I feel like I am invincible, bounding through time and space. Moving this way and that, tramping footpath, field and verge. I am oblivious to the stresses and strains I place on the tendons, nerves, cartilage and more.
As the red lights flash, I know the time has come to stop, take stock and be aware of the parts of me which make me whole. To get back to green, I use my mind.
It is a quiet pause in the day to slow down my breath, and be aware of everything around me – a chance to still my thoughts and focus on the senses which help navigate the days and nights.
My sight moves into the foreground, focussing on my palms, noticing the lines on the creases in my fingers, the curve of my nail and the joints in my hands.
My ears tune out the immediate sounds all around, hearing once again in the distance the blackbird on the fence as he calls to his mate, urging her to take care.
The smell of the washing as it hangs on the landing mingles with the fragrance of shower gel and deodorant … the morning smells of get up and go. And the taste of toothpaste in my mouth; the minty freshness which I inhale as I breathe deeply.
And my sixth sense suddenly switches on. I am aware of the energy surrounding me and in me which is all powerful and awe-inspiring.
As my body stills and quietens, I begin to listen to the shouts and calls from within. The knots in my shoulder begin to unwind as each breath loosens the tendons, relaxing the clenched muscles which in turn take oxygen to my furrowed brow.
I straighten and lengthen my calf, allowing my knee to relax and slip back into a more comfortable easy state. The release of pain cheers my brain and my breath quickens. As I bring myself back into the here and now, I use the sinew, tendon, cartilage, nerves and more and take a step forward into the day.
By Samantha Jayasuriya