I went running- I was fast, I was focused. My shoes were thumping the ground in quick succession. The air cut whooshing sounds about my ears, and so I did not hear…my eyes were focused ahead, and so I did not see… the pieces falling along the way in my wake. Little pieces…of me.
They talk of the wonders that the human body can accomplish given the right amount of adrenaline, and will. I believe in that. But I also saw little pieces of me strewn along the way, which I didn’t bend to pick up, telling myself I’ll do that on the way back. I was intoxicated by the thrill of the run.
When I stopped, somewhere in a deep forest amid crawling vines and the sound of crickets, I could hear my heart thumping- in my ears, even in my eyes. I felt refreshed and light, like I had dropped all the things I had needed to drop, along the way.
But as I sat by a little pond, and my breath evened out.. and I could see my reflection sitting as calm as the surface of the pond, I felt something was missing… like I was hollowed out in places. When I stood to my full height and looked into my still reflection, I knew without a doubt that some things had been lost. The picture looked incomplete, like missing pieces of a jigsaw- something a little broken, a little incomplete.
That which felt light in movement, felt empty in stillness. What should I trust? Movement or stillness?
I walked, or actually limped, eventually.. in some time becoming aware that I was lost in this beautiful deep forest- which was wonderful to be in, but not if I didn’t know the way out. And the pond I loved a moment ago, seemed vicious. And the vines I admired so far, seemed like traps.
I limped around frantically, feeling vulnerable and exposed- bleeding in places, and pieces missing in others… until I stumbled upon what had been clearly a piece of me.
I picked it up and tried putting it back in place. It fit, but clunkily, like it was shy.. like it wasn’t sure anymore that it was in the right place. I put it in my pocket. As I walked I saw more and more of the pieces that had dropped along the way. I stared in wonder.. I hadn’t expected there would be so many! How was I still standing?
I picked them up one by one, keeping them in my hands, and in my pockets. Who knew if they would fit again? I didn’t have the heart to try again yet.
But I know this- I had been lost. And tracing these pieces lying along the way took me all the way home.
And I sit now on the edge of my bed, wondering what it shall be. Wondering if I shall try to fit the pieces again. Who knows if they will fit? Or should I run again, now that I am light?
Will I shed the pieces again if I run? Will I heal again if I stay still? Or did everything just change forever? Such that none of what has been will be the same again- Neither the whole stillness, nor the light movement…?
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