Physical

Less than a month left to turn twenty-five years old.

If I had to choose one word to summarize and archive it in my memory, that would be “physical.”

A year when I explored my body more than ever,
Accepted pain more than ever and touched,
More bravely than ever.

And how calmer my mind is when I experience myself in the senses of my body; not on paper, not in my imagination.

Now, I’m writing in praise of this new way of being while holding a cold compress on my calves to dull the pain of running,

Thinking that maybe I always loved hiking, not only for the love of nature and altitude, but also for the fact that my muscles were completely exhausted and sore afterward.

Soreness – this undeniable testimony of being,

This satisfying sensation of micro-destruction and repair.

Now I love playing the piano not as a trick to escape into another world, but as a unique opportunity for my fingertips to touch, and my muscles to move, and my totality to create something beautiful.

I perceive people now with my curious five senses, and what a liberation it is, to stop guessing hidden expectations and intentions.

At the verge of twenty-five, I am more present in my body than ever.

I am not restless to solve the mysteries of being with my little neurons anymore.

What a liberation it is to accept that there is only so much I can comprehend through and about this bodily being.

So I cry because I want to cry.

I laugh because I love it.

I dance if I want to.

And I know that I can not take pain out of this equation.

“Material” – This is what I understand.

I have a body, therefore I am.

• Written in November 2019