Outpacing your own delight

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This is NOT me, sadly, I wish it was. My body-imposed cavegirl diet is costing me MY LUSCIOUS BUTT

Tonight I biked hard for the first time this year. And by hard, I mean, racing vehicles hard. I was giddy with the new buds of late winter pushing up already in the deep South. I was giddy to be on my pony again and super giddy from this week of deep play in the online playshop Money Boogie.

Considering the depths of my joy, it’s surprising to think that it took me a full three minutes to realize that I might be dying.

And then another SOLID minute or two to make the decision to get off my bike. That seems like a fair bit of lag time for such a critical feeling situation.

I laid there in the sun, kind of sort of bleeding from the chest. I’d recently gotten some kind of lung funk and hadn’t realized the extent of it until I PLAYED THIS HARD.

You know where this is going.

This is a metaphor.

Okay, so, when you are sitting down on the couch, you may never know you have a tender spot in your foot, or whatever. It is in the wondrous activation of deep play that we encounter, and play with and love into and EVENTUALLY play through those wobbly bits.

But there is no rush to get through. Life is delicious. The stillness is delicious. All of the all of it, is so very very delicious.

I discovered the joy of pain as I laid there in the new sun, hurting so effing bad and so effing alive. And I realized that my lungs want some love. And so I breathed the thousand healing smiles inside of the sun down into my lungs and Nidra-ed my insides back into calm and realzied that I had found my pace again.

For a moment, I’d eagerly pony-jumped ahead of the pace of my delight AND THAT’S FUN TOO, because damn it life IS EXCITING and if you aren’t eagerly leaping ahead, you aren’t in range of the thrills that are your birth right, but for a sustained playful existence, I prefer staying close to the pace of my delight.

Mmm, roll that around a moment: The pace of my delight.

What other freaking pace is there?

Okay, here’s the helpful bits:

You can tell you’re leaving it when you start to feel more anxious than excited. You can tune back the pace a bit by doing a calming breathing or taking a quick five minute stroll or boogie to your favorite song.

You can tell you’re finding the pace because the excitement feels just right, the joy feels Just Right, YOU FEEL JUST RIGHT BECAUSE YOU ARE.

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The pace of your delight is the pace of allowing.

Really, when you get down to it, it’s the only pace in town.

Happy delighting! Happy perfect now, however it finds you, it’s perfect, and the moment you decide it is, you find the pace again …  ahhh …
Love, Yee Old Bloody Lung Kinsey

One Comment

  1. Yay for the pace of delight, the pace of love…the pace of peace!
    And glad you are still alive 😉

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