Natural Movement

Running evades description. It is beyond concepts and words. It is one of the core and essential movements that constitute our birthrights as living creatures. We breathe, we eat, and we move along on two legs. That is its power. It does not matter what speed we go, or how long, or what we look like while doing it. It is not necessarily for anything. It is simply expression and action. It is our birthright. To carry oneself along city streets glistening with the dire effluvium, through narrow gray alleyways thick with warm, heavy scent, along secret winding footpaths descending below the stinging brambles; salty and heavy with fatigue upon the gritty sand of the ancient coasts, panting and coursing atop a desolate peak, then undulating with the green and mossy trails thick with the whistles and cries of birds.

This is the singing of the original song of the body.

Our breath and blood rising and surging in our chest is become radiant, our spirit following gleefully in hand. Pulsing around our inner chambers our lifeblood comes to speed and feels itself in the pure confidence of natural purpose. There is no denying this.

It is our birthright and the beginning of the human race; we dropped from the safety of the ancestral boughs and immediately sprang into a long supple stride through the sea of yellow grasses. We ran and the seawater gushed forth from our pores and we felt the crimson blood awakened and pulsing between our temples. Across the savannah the radiant sun shone upon our glistening bodies and cast our shadows in a wild dance upon the plain as we bounded together in the first song of humanity. At night we settled down around the fire. We shared stories of the chase, the drew pictures among the stars in the dark firmament overhead, and we sang songs. But first, we ran.

These are our beginnings. These are the images of our ancestral legacy. This is our remembering and our honor every time we take the leap of faith to come into our bodies and enter the world.