Yesterday, the day before, today and all other days I’ve found myself reaching a point were I just want to explore. Today I ran. Today I climbed. Today I stood still while the world moved around me.
A chirping chafinch. A roaring waterfall. A swirling pool. A fallen tree. An enexpected wave. The pulsing of my heart. The movement of air within my lungs. The syncopations of breath, pulse and step. The quietening of the internal dialogue. The return to self. The finding of peace. A smile that morphs into a grin that morphs into uncontrollable laughter.
I move because it is an expression of myself. There is no pose, no vanity and no pretense. It is just my body responding to the terrain around it.
The peace lingers, but I know it’ll become an itch. The itch will become a gnawing and the gnawing a scream bursting to get out until it has had its full of moving.
In truth I’m an addict and I am addicted to the feeling of flowing through the landscape and finding new ground to place my feet, rest my head and fill my senses.