The Rush of Stillness

Feet tap rhythmic beats on gravel skin; a drone on a stony heart.

What would have been a morning of rushing to work to discover my laughable earliness was quickly saved by the innate desire to commit my body to that rush of meditation. I thought, maybe I could finally get in that morning run that I have been craving recently.

As it turned out, I saved myself in the nick of time so I could finally grasp that desire. My thoughts echoed the conversations between birds, and the whispers of automobiles. Further inside, images of further desires and needs flashed before me. Running has always granted me that personal space that I enjoy. It grants the ability to become one with the world around me whilst grounding me to my inner core.  Feelings that I usually do not make sense of finally morph into a word or phrase.

And always, that moving thoughtfulness reminded me of my eternal search for truth: for the bare facts in the perspective of reality.

More often than not, I find my mind running in directions. Relationships are usually tricky and can be potentially addicting, depending on the personality. Work can be dangerously  all-consuming when one lets it (as I am apt to do). And focusing on one aspect of life can be just as complicated and demanding as focusing on every aspect.

At some point I have to detach the mind from the rest of what I am doing. Usually I get frustrated when people tell me to detach from things because I want to be able what to detach from. After all, if I detach from too much, honestly, I find life more worthless. To live with nothing to hold on to is dangerous.

But running is what I use to stabilize my otherwise my overworking brain. Emotions that have been evoked over the past few days simmer in a pot of reflection. My energy burns up the fuel that has been lain down by anxiety. What remains is the ash, or shadow, of my true disposition. Even though I have been going out on dates and kinda pulling my life together, I know that I long for that singular career. The one that lets me live frankly and in the moment.

So I will continue to run and reflect, for nothing is swifter than the lightened foot and mind. And that, in itself, is the art form of moving meditation.