The solstice has brought many gifts this week.
A need to stop doing. Be still and rest.
A detox that made me vomit and upturned a HUGE insight from myself as a small baby, my mother cleaning food away and my relationship to eating.
A swim that spoke volumes.
These gifts have woven together connections, shifting understanding and appreciation.
Submergence is my way in. Here I experience myself inside out. Today, from still a tender tum from two nights ago, I felt my gut, so alive in the water. And then, BOOM! I realised my gut, it is not like the muscle I had likened it to. Not hard, firm, fixed, knowing.
Today I felt my gut as a joint. Working, operating, living. Supportive. Playful and inquisitive. Just as a joint.
One that needs movement, space and flexibility for its sustenance. Requiring the same juice, the same tenacity just as my knee joints, my elbow joints, my fingers and toes….
So alive. So dynamic.
And then I thought of trusting our guts. This has long been my modus operandi. To always come back to our gut. Take heed and listen.
But. It’s not as I imagined. It is not pre-programmed, so to speak. It’s doesn’t come with it’s innate set of designated personalised preferences as somewhere in the background of my mind I had more or less placed it.
No. It is Open. Responsive. And so friggin Alive.
I think mine has been quite asleep, hibernating a while.
Hello bowlful of juicy tensegrity.