WARNING: Running with your eyes closed may result in serious injury. I mean it.
Sensory overload. There’s so much noise that something can be missed. It’s faint and subtle, yet all the more reason we often forget it’s even there. But what is it?
Pat. Pat. Pat. Pat. When I dare to run without my mashup-blasting, mind-distracting earphones, I hear but a few noises. The wind amongst the reeds growing in the marsh. The distant buzzing of a hummingbird. Cars from a nearby street. And my feet against the concrete. The Pat, Pat, Pat. The more I listen, the more aware I become. The softer each Pat sounds.
And then I say, what the heck, let’s try this. I close my eyes. And I feel. I listen. The muscles shift, sharing each loaded step. I sense the balance from side to side, and the imbalance my body oh-so-cleverly masks to keep me moving forward. The pelvis drops to one side as I fall deeper into one foot, staying longer in this stride. Something I NEVER noticed before. Something I learned, just from listening.
To listen to our genuine nature, our true self, can be a difficult task. Our daily lives are layered with opportunities to de-sensitize and cover them up. Yet maybe these distractions aren’t to blame. Maybe we should be taking responsibility for using these as excuses to not listen to what is truly going on in our lives (and body).
I mean, who wants to talk about the source of one’s unhappiness, imbalance, weakness or fear?
Yet what if we did? What if we dared to put ourselves out there? In order to initiate positive change, this conversation must happen first and foremost with ourselves. We don’t have to close our eyes to find our authentic and inner voice. Yet it just might be a good place to start. Find the simplest (and best) version of you. The simplest version of what makes you happy.
And with this, my steps suddenly become silent. I feel, I move, I listen, I am.
* Feature photo by Achilles Imperial of lululemon athletica Newport Beach. Let’s be honest. He’s awesome.