MOVEMENT WITHIN THE RESTING, A NECESSARY COROLLARY


When we are not dead while resting in God, or as long as we are alive, movement is essential and pleasurable. But there are different definitions of movement — it is a mistaken belief that movement always has to be energetic and vigorous. Stretching out that one limb that asks to be stretched, in my case this morning, just my aching right wrist, paying attention to it, then making that one small movement to nurture it, stretch out the palm of the hand,  massage a little balm into it, is tremendous movement.

I write about this today because I have been sick for a — it feels like! — a long time; at least a week. Listless, indigestive, lung infected. Though I have taken the time out to do some necessary things, like a bit of yoga, at least, being content even if I did 5 minutes of it, sitting in bed and reading (a wonderful thing to do if you are not too sick to do it), getting ideas in my head about my many writing projects, taking notes, converting old files, this morning I felt immobilized, dizzy from medications, but not quite content to be in bed, either, it being such a lovely, sunny morning after over a week of being damp, rainy, cold, I went out into the garden intending to do some yoga when my body signaled it was sick of being in bed and wanted to move. (What a long sentence, Payson would complain, but I joy in the long, winding ones!). But the garden, neglected during the rains was screaming for attention and one thing led to another and I was in it for two hours, walking very slowly and carefully, like an old lady with her stick (loving the image) taking out the time to sit now and then, drink some juice, and getting the help of our driver, Uttam Singh, and Raju, our cook, who I commandeered from other tasks. Though I barely had the energy to talk or walk, I got a lot done. Very soulful work, too, like gathering six or ten varieties of moss from shady areas and placing them on the soil beneath the deodar trees I am trying to bonsai, and planting some succulents and ferns in the walls of the grotto. I even believe it contributed to my healing and I feel all the healthier for it.

Such a lovely art, the highest, perhaps, in being able to read the true needs of the Godlike Psyche in union with the Godlike, human body.

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