EMBODIMENT ARTS

EMBODIMENT ARTS

Spring: impulses of the wild



oanne
photo credit: oanne.org

Before, Spring was Spring. Everything was held in a fixed place: people, health, nature, knowledge, children, work and pleasure. Now, Spring is a dynamic journey, not outside but within me, calling for the roots of my whole being and for the thousands of forms and expressions which are possible in my life. Have I found the right conditions to flourish?


Every season in every year, it’s revealing itself through my life in such a diversity of aspects and possibilities that it can only amaze me. It is something found more slowly, with diligence, intention, in the reaching out into the stories of the place and in the slow savouring and digestion of it.

It’s almost unbelievable, how in the past, seasons and places were so linear and flat to me. I could always adjust comfortably, just by pressing the temperature button or often sheltering myself under my car, umbrella or anti-flu medicine. Now, it’s wilder, more exposed, like a circle within a circle or a spiral, where I’m pushed to the edges of the feeling, the vibration of colour, the movement, the quietness, the cold or the heat - and nothing remains the same. I become in many ways the season itself, contrary to the past shallow witnessing of it.

Warm under so many layers, the Winter’s embrace seems to fade away with the sudden invasion of Spring. Lifting myself out of the winter’s sleep and stepping outside unto the spring light, I feel shaken by the high pitch of bird’s songs, the leaves rustling with the passing winds, the cries of newborns, the orgasmic colours and smells of blossoming flowers… every day there’s novelty, new shapes appearing and filling in the empty space. Everything is vibrant, intense and expressive.

First, sprouts started to break through the soil - just so very few. I greeted them happily and right there, I was reminded about my own strength to break through the pressures of life. “Okay, I’m not ready yet…” a thought that I knew to be a memory, a smelly wound left open from my own birth story. But the impulses to go forth - even if with artificial oxytocin - were already set in motion, independently of my readiness or resistance, independently of my mother’s readiness or resistance. And I feel pushed to comply with the imposed act. Fear builds up, at every undesired and hurtful movement till I’m about to meet the unknown…

Spring, feels to me like an explosion of sensorial stimuli and it’s unstoppable - cannot wait! - as it is impregnated with the desire for survival and full expression of Life. If only I could immerse myself in this sensuous environment and celebrate this body with all of it’s manifestations: the seeing, the smelling, the listening, the tasting and the sensing of the prickling grasses, the wetness of sweat and the warmth of the air touching my exposed skin. But there’s a part in me, which is still in distrust, that holds back and I feel disturbed, like looking into the mirror and facing a painful confrontation.

But indeed, no seed germinates without Spring. It is the burst of Spring’s impressions that have knocked at my door and shaken my dorment life. If I have built security, throughout many years of my life, based upon what I was told about myself and my situations, Spring time has always been a reminder about the strength of my own impulses and truth. A quiet voice arose within me, ushering: “you can push yourself into the world, because you too desire life, because you too are life”. This voice has become louder over the years, so that to confront the depth of my inner distrust. Because, what I ultimately see in the mirror, are the uncertain contours of my edges and the possibility of reshaping. The possibility of reshaping…. how powerful is this?

My birth experience, my transition into this world, generated a belief, a pattern that stayed with me for more than 30 years: that my own strength is inadequate and unnecessary, when facing external forces. I’m now 41. And this Spring I feel disturbed, because my truth is screaming so loud that it not only confronts my personal limitations, it confronts the world I live in. Have I found the right conditions to flourish?

I cannot dismiss it anymore, not even a single bit. And so often as I can, I swallow the air gracefully, not in need but in desire. I unbound my instinctual impulses from their constraints offering them the freedom to return their roots into the soil of my body and into the larger body of Mother Earth.
The wild within me is awake and it’s breaking through.
In the forest, walking barefoot, bathing myself in the fragrance of the bushes and flowers, my flesh bruised from the sharpness of dried sticks and mosquito bites, my naked body immersed in the soft waters of the river, I feel myself returning … returning to the wild.

I’m no longer the forms, images or stories given to me by civilisation, history, culture and family.
I return into a sense of unconditional worth, adequacy, belonging together with a wide array of native shapes and expressions.

Before, Spring was Spring. Everything was held in a fixed place: people, health, nature, children, knowledge, work and pleasure. Now, Spring is a dynamic journey, not outside but within me, calling for the roots of my whole being and for the thousands of forms and expressions which can be possible in my life .
So, I give thanks to Spring and welcome the disturbances and difficulties of all beginnings.