A big thud.
In my head, I let out a scream!
My voice cowered and refused to cooperate
A scream was too raw,
a sign of defeat.
I whimpered instead, and quickly looked around to make sure no one heard!
Even in a moment of pain, I was hard on myself.
Trudge on, I’m sure this is nothing!
I tried, my body said
Nah ah..I ain’t playing your silly games
Is that not what this fall represent. How in the pain we have to love through to get to gentle Ness.
With my right arm sore, I had to be deliberate in how I did the simplest of things. I had to be slow and gentle. Tasks I would have undertaken without a seconds thought were demanding that I recognize the process of getting them done. Slowly, I was getting to grips with how important the wrists’ action is in most of the things I do in my day. I also was getting a window into what it takes to mend a sprained or injured part of the body. If I acted impulsively or reached for something without thinking, my arm told me in the sharpest of tones to be gentle.
Gently does it.
I knew that instinctively, and of course in theory.
But my injury demanded compliance and to LIVE gentleness. I love the idea of gentleness yet I didn’t realize how not gently I went about my business of the day. I grabbed things, I pushed and I pulled. I reached up too excessively, I dropped down like a heavy sack. My body had had enough!
It was teaching a most important lesson. That mending and healing required gentleness.
This brings tears to my eyes, like how easy is that?
But we are taught to get things done.
Get the task done quicker.
Get through stuff as quickly as you can.
Get through life stages in the quickest time. Beat the next person doing it.
Get it done.
As a result, the quality of the journey is a blur. The steps that make the destination are hazy. We want to get there and collect the medal. It’s the medal we want to show off. Then the rush leaves us depleted and not quite sure why we aren’t as fulfilled after the fact as much as we thought we would be. After the congratulatory chorus has died down, our sense of self also takes a dive, needing another rushed trip around the competition block.
Back at the soul ranch, our being is imploring that we slow down.
Take it easy.
Savour the moments and we will realize that it is the journey itself that holds the keys to the joy we seek to express.
And only when gentle with ourselves does it all come out to play.
In our slow pace, we hear And see better.
We hear our song.
We hear its call.
We understand what it says.
And we dance to it.
We let it lead the footstep.
The direction of our moments.
This is its game.
Gentle does it!
Rushing, all you hear is the blood rush in your ears
Not the song that calls for your alignment, giving the direction to your better yet to be!
In your rush,
Much escapes your view
your sight continues to narrow.
Yet, in your gentle step, you hear and heed the direction from your inner depths.
From that which has the map.
That which directs.