Nothing happens until something moves. ~Albert Einstein
I have been carrying those words of Einstein with me over the last month or so, thinking about their significance in my life. Conscious movement is a regular practice in my daily life and even if I don't feel like it, I step onto my yoga mat for even 10-15 minutes, lace up my running shoes and head out the door, or open my journal and begin to move my pen across the page. These vital practices never fail to reconnect me to what's essential. By staying close to my body and breath I gain greater access to my heart. While in motion I am better able to let my analytic mind assume a more submissive role which makes way for deeper wisdom to surface. I can honestly say that I never come away from one of my practices without some kind of insight or understanding that was previously unavailable. It is as if, through the movement, a way opens before me and I am able to step ahead. Interestingly, movement meditations (walking, eating, driving, yoga, writing, etc.) specifically activate our creative potential and through them we place ourselves directly into the creative process and the conditions are cultivated for the emergence of new things to come into being. How often have you been involved in some kind of repetitive activity and had a flash of understanding? It happens all the time for me.
I think it is important to distinguish conscious movement from the more common distracted movement that many of us experience each day. Disembodiment and dissociation have become regular states of operation for so many people that are rushing from one thing to another with little awareness of the process. One simple way to shift this is to simply pause regularly and ask: Where am I? Notice the surroundings; take in the sounds, sights and feeling tones. And then ask yourself Where am I going? This question always begs a deeper answer than whatever task lies ahead. It helps to put into perspective a broader vision for our lives. It points us in the direction of our most significant priorities and helps us in taking the very next step with more awareness.
Any practice that helps us connect with our physical body can serve as a starting place to develop our consciousness. I have begun to ask myself in the morning--how do I want to move through this day? Some days I need the quick, small steps that pave the way to efficiency and mobilize my intentions to get things done. Other days I need to saunter. To slow down and feel each step stretch across the various thresholds through which I pass. Most days, a balance is called for. I believe that so much of illness results from stagnation or lack of optimal energy flow in the system. In my experience with clinical depression, this overwhelming feeling of being stuck--unable to move--was the pervasive symptom. Until I had the necessary support, I couldn't seem to find the energy to move out of this stuck place. But as I see it now, my healing came from my ability to move through the inertia, the pain, the sadness and create something entirely different. In working with a yoga client recently, this understanding became clear for her. She has struggled with numerous health issues for most of her life, exploring a multitude of ways to address the symptoms so that she can live more comfortably. She has an established prayer practice and is very connected to her faith. We began working together to develop a suitable yoga practice and in one particular session an insight came to her about a specific way to proceed in her healing journey. She made the connection that she had been praying, asking for guidance and help, but it was through her action that understanding was given. It was as if Spirit were telling her--"move and I will open the doors!" This was also a vital lesson for me, serving as a reminder that we don't always have to know the full scope of where we are going before we choose to move. Most of the time I feel like I can only see a few steps ahead, but that is always enough to move forward. And this, I believe, is what it means to live creatively--the ability to put ourselves into motion and trust that we will be met with grace or, at the very least, something to which we can creatively respond that will pave the way for innovative discovery.
Very often when I am involved in my movement practice, the line between moving and being moved becomes more permeable and I feel myself distinctly part of something much bigger. Awe inspired, I feel both minuscule and vast at the same time. This is one of my most favorite feelings.
At the end of his life Einstein was asked what he knew for sure. His reply:
Something's moving.
Indeed. Can you feel it?
