When I am comfortable in something, when I really settle in, my senses become heightened.
This is different than when I initially enter into something new, and my senses catalogue hundreds of objects that I see, hear, smell, touch, etc. Yes, the comfort sensing is different. The comfort sensing picks up on immaterial things in my presence that have no impact on my being, but are in my immediate world.
I am easing back into training after a competitive 2010 that took me up to mid-November. I have been out of the pool for as many months, if not more. But over the last several weeks, I found my stroke again and the serenity that a solitary pre-dawn swim brings. I settled in to the pool. Until two lanes over, a seemingly strong swimmer took to pounding the water (quite literally) with each advancing stroke. She was, by no means, slipping gracefully through the water, but rather creating a roiling pool around her.
What did that water ever do to you?
Like swimming, I also often enjoy my runs in solitude, even without my iPod (a lesson learned from racing). Flowers are brighter; birds become my music; and even the air tastes better. Until another runner came upon me recently, pounding the pavement (quite literally), from somewhere behind me and then past me. Each footfall seemingly left indentations in the concrete pathway we shared.
What did that road ever do to you?
I’m writing this from an island on which I’ve settled (albeit only for a few more days). A new island to me, but one that is now delightfully familiar. And the other day, the sweetest scent came my way as I walked the road I had traversed already several times. Did new flowers suddenly open over night, or was I keenly aware in my comfortable way? I think the latter. And I think:
What mark of amazing grace did I stumble upon here?
In our ever-plugged in and connected world, an evolutionary survival mechanism we now possess is the ability to selectively take in sensory things. We hear what matters when necessary. We see (or don’t see) the convenient truisms in our path. And we disconnect not only from things outside of our own being, but especially things outside of immediate realm. We jettison immaterial things.
Our sense can handle it. Allow yourself to be comfortable. Allow yourself to sense.
Retro re-post of the day: Spring Has Sprung.