Performance, collaborative research, and teaching for health, justice, and community-building.

Love Letter to a Body Being

Added on by Marie Garlock.

Love Letter to a Body Being, from Marie

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

a reflection ~ divination

... in writing the above to you, I felt it in my body

each moment in my body, this tug and buoy and lift and current and wave

that is how I know! how I learn! how I sense! how I remember!

I felt it as I wrote it to you!

 

my body is so wise, the cultivator and attuner of so much, in my learning, knowing, performing, LOVING, people-connecting, leading, writing/communicating/flowing

 

and i think, if I step back, all the way back, like hawk eye view, like solar system view, on the biochemistry revelations of pain to be transmuted (biochemistry revelation of the longtime wisdom: “all things in the universe are either love, or a call for love”)

 

that the experiences of these years have been from overriding my body, and it is such a primal-primary form of intelligence and intuition and inquiry and integrity for me!

 

my body-self is like: “whoaaaaaaah human!! you ARE a body knower-learner-communicator-synthesizer-love-beamer-center-maker-connector-activator-blesser!!”

 

“whatcha dang doing trying to suppress that!!?! you override and override and overwork and under sleep, you overdo and undermine the blessings that you are/are/are/were/will be. bless and rest, restore and at the behest of all angels who see it wider than you: peace, peace, peace comes from listening, first, to the songs and the quiet, the breath and the story, the movement and the stillness of you-as/in/guided-body. allow, allow, allow.”

 

 

 

 

 yep! more of this!

yep! more of this!

happening upon

what is unpaved

IMG_0788.jpg
 dancing grounds   protected, visible,  secrets in the open

dancing grounds 

protected, visible,

secrets in the open

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 breath and courage  curiosity and serenity  beckon at each ancient,  each new gate

breath and courage

curiosity and serenity

beckon at each ancient,

each new gate

IMG_0801.jpg
 postlude from the minutiae:  vistas this open breathe back,  the trees abundant, in their summer eminence.  so--why does the human eye get caught on that little dot of nuclear power, emitting its steam and test sirens, an hour-glass broke open at the valley's farthest curve?   be mindful--the crickets are louder! the humidity more thick.  breezelessness more consuming, the corridor splitting cloud and horizon so vast.  regroup--balance your feet in the grass, naked arches slipping over blades, tussled but rebounding, tussled but rebounding  from gentle sways of tai chi, pummels of power stretching, indents of hazy afternoon napping, all these sweaty, overworked humans' pursuit of silence, pressing, pivoting, passing through.  notice--naked arches slipping over blades, baring only their own, greenest growth  look! at what symphony they create in syncopated self-care  all that upward-outward-inward-down expansion engaging their own lot of light, some iota bestowed from shared sun  with their own root dances carved to soil, shared earth  with their own rain soakings, each drop of dew part of a dawn en masse, shared water.  be humbled--each some part of the One, fresh teachers remind the jaded  crisply, tenderly, tenaciously, grass blades carry their skin and veins into an unknown trajectory, photosynthesizing individuation in concert  laughing at the idea of splitting themselves in half, to give away, take for granted, or reject their tiny, vital, blessed lot of water and earth and sun  all, already, there.  cycling, spreading, retracting, cycling--water and earth and sun.  grass blades doing their unhurried and anointed best. rejoicing the inevitable, releasing the inevitable. each to begin again.

postlude from the minutiae:

vistas this open breathe back,

the trees abundant, in their summer eminence.

so--why does the human eye get caught on that little dot of nuclear power, emitting its steam and test sirens, an hour-glass broke open at the valley's farthest curve? 

be mindful--the crickets are louder! the humidity more thick.

breezelessness more consuming, the corridor splitting cloud and horizon so vast.

regroup--balance your feet in the grass, naked arches slipping over blades, tussled but rebounding, tussled but rebounding

from gentle sways of tai chi, pummels of power stretching, indents of hazy afternoon napping, all these sweaty, overworked humans' pursuit of silence, pressing, pivoting, passing through.

notice--naked arches slipping over blades, baring only their own, greenest growth

look! at what symphony they create in syncopated self-care

all that upward-outward-inward-down expansion engaging their own lot of light, some iota bestowed from shared sun

with their own root dances carved to soil, shared earth

with their own rain soakings, each drop of dew part of a dawn en masse, shared water.

be humbled--each some part of the One, fresh teachers remind the jaded

crisply, tenderly, tenaciously, grass blades carry their skin and veins into an unknown trajectory, photosynthesizing individuation in concert

laughing at the idea of splitting themselves in half, to give away, take for granted, or reject their tiny, vital, blessed lot of water and earth and sun

all, already, there.

cycling, spreading, retracting, cycling--water and earth and sun.

grass blades doing their unhurried and anointed best. rejoicing the inevitable, releasing the inevitable. each to begin again.