A letter to a friend

I know it was never like this.

Never had I looked at my body in such a way.

Never before had I observed all the curves , the hollow parts , the sharpness, the flatness or the eternal calmness of my body landscape.

My foot stepped on the wall, it was slippery, polished, as they say. I fell and I was surprised. Who is that formation that made me fall? I say “who” because it felt human. So, who is that formation that made me lose my balance? Who...me? I never lose my balance, I instantly thought. I got angry! Maybe I wasn’t concentrating enough, I’ll try again. I focus and place my foot carefully in that small, tiny hole. After a careful inspection it was the only point that looked quite stable and made me feel secure, and as if all the chances of falling would vanish. I warmed up my hands, dipped them in my chalk bag, clapped them to get much of the dust away and placed my fingertips on the small edges above my head. I brought by body center, you know, the part of your body that has this tiny hole in the middle of the belly, sometimes looking like a foot hole of another scale, close to the wall and pushed with my fingers downwards. It worked! I am attached. We came to an agreement, I thought! For seconds I realized that I am standing there, on my own weight, attached to this beautiful formation, the details of which are now revealed to me. Suddenly, I could see all the possibilities of connection, of going further to explore more and more of this body. As if this focus and effort was the key to unfold its mystery. I felt connected to this new form, I respected it and it showed me its secrets. I don’t know how long it took me to make these thoughts, was it milliseconds, was it minutes, no idea. I even thought that the time had frozen for me and so had my body. To my surprise, I was always in motion. I had already been far away from the ground, from my safety zone. I was lost, till my head banged on an edge. Tuffas!!! I had to look up. Dripping weird objects hanging over me as if a flat mountain once overheated, started melting, dripping down and froze in a new form creating curves, volumes and small caves, perfect for the human body, my body to fit inside. I grabbed one of them, hugged it all around with arms and legs. My right hand met the left one and held together so tight, as two friends who found each other after a long time and they don’t want to let go. Locking my feet together was not enough to hold me on and I instantly changed my pressure concentration to my thighs, my inner part of the legs, which I started squeezing against the melting rock. My spine was immediately activated provoking a spiral twist to my torso that allowed me to enter a curve. I could fit perfectly in there, as if I had already imprinted my shape while the melting was happening, just to save my spot. To know that whenever I would need to come back and find peace, there would be always my spot waiting for me. I am pretty sure it happened that way. I feel I was here before!

What you read is a true story from the diary of a climber. I found it on the mountains on my way to the climbing sector Mars. I was hiking on a path on a gray day, after the rain had stopped. I like walking on muddy grounds and I thought of taking a walk. I found this small red notebook on the side, already a bit destroyed and wet, but the pages in the middle were still readable. I liked the story but nothing more… I mean, I didn’t have much more feelings or thoughts about it except for the fact that I found myself imagining, for a few seconds, how that person might look like. I took the book hoping that maybe I would meet him/her ( for now I’ll just say “they”) and give it back. I kept walking on stones, the path was not very clear at that point. ………….. I paused……………. My heart started beating faster and faster. I had just taken a left turn while a massive red confused rock was standing before me. Dripping parts were hanging from the wall exactly as it was described in the notebook and I instantly felt as if I was holding and hiding myself somewhere inside them. There, where no one could find me anymore.

I felt the power of this person’s confession. Their confession to the rocks and their appreciation for taking care of them. I was safe.

I hope you are safe too.

Leni


[As I work with the concept of "Ma", the in between space in Japanese culture, I observe how this concept has influenced not only the way I see my body and my actions in the world but also how I create my stories. They appear to be always somewhere in between fiction and reality. They appear to me as a combination of what is happening outside of my body with what is developing in the inside at the same time. In the end, my stories in this blog are real. They are the representation of the the combination of our multiple realities. Because, our story is never what is shown to the outside, but also what is happening in the inside. By being aware of this inside landscapes of our bodies, our innerscapes as we could call them, we engage to a better connection and response to what is going on around us, while at the same time we can influence the whole picture with more conscious actions. Letting the world on the outside know what is going on on the inside, not only enriches our perception of ourselves in space and in our bodies, but it gives valuable information to the world around us on how it has an impact on us and what that is. By linking ourselves, our innerscapes to the outerscapes, we create bridges, we weave with an invisible thread and work on building a sensory sensitive community, aware of its links, knots and interconnections that keep it solid and flexible.]

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