Body Integration.
This year, when did you feel the most integrated with your body? Did you have a moment where there wasn’t mind and body, but simply a cohesive YOU, alive and present?
(Prompt Author: Patrick Reynolds)
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I knew it. All these years I’ve had a suspicion that Mrs Koumas was hiding something. Yeah, she got us to dissect frogs and stick our fingers inside pig’s hearts, but I always knew there was something she was keeping from us, something she’d left off the curriculum. At the time, I thought it had something to do with the breeziness with which we covered the chapter on sexual organs. But now I know the truth. And now, so many things are starting to make sense.
Like, why my brain keeps insisting on walking three paces ahead of me, or why my tongue keeps diving in to other people’s lunches, or waking up to find my lungs spattered on the ceiling and the bedclothes (pulmonary alveoli are a bitch to get out of the sheets), and dragging my torso down the stairs in the mornings to find my legs, dead on the sofa, where they’d snuck off to watch bad TV in the middle of the night. And don't even get me started on my backbone.
Why didn’t anyone ever tell us of the need to integrate? Were they worried we wouldn't have the guts to do it? Well, it’s a gross oversight. It should be taught in all schools, everywhere, the earlier the better. Otherwise, it is left to the few earnest and caring souls, or to use the proper term, wellness consultants, like Patrick Reynolds, to spread the word. Thank you Patrick, for enlightening me. I mean, I didn’t even know how close I’d been to NOT BEING ALIVE.
I don’t know about you, but the trickiest bit for me is keeping track of all the different PARTS that need integrating. So for the past 24 minutes, I’ve been working strenuously at finding a way to keep me nice and cohesive. I can tell you straight off that superglue doesn’t work. It made me a bit too cohesive with my clothing and furniture and toilet paper. (Even chanting at the same time didn't help.) Cello tape is also ineffective. I just kept attracting dust and my limbs kept seeing it as a challenge to break free. The secret, I happily discovered, is to use the power of your mind to generate the power of distraction. What you have to do is find something for that unruly disintegrating body of yours to do! And nothing says integration like the power of dance. (Stay with me, it's for your own good.)
Now, you might find it hard to keep up, but with a little bit of practice, I am sure you can do it. We can do this together. If you have any children in the house, I advise you to get them involved too. It’s for their own good. Ok ready? Just let the words into your mind and your body will soon follow. Here we go...
One, two, three…all together now…
Dem bones, dem bones, dem dancing bones.
Dem bones, dem bones, dem dancing bones.
Dem bones, dem bones, dem dancing bones.
Doin' the skeleton dance.
The foot bone's connected to the leg bone.
The leg bone's connected to the knee bone.
The knee bone's connected to the thigh bone.
Doin' the skeleton dance.
The thigh bone's connected to the hip bone.
The hip bone's connected to the backbone.
The backbone's connected to the neck bone.
Doin' the skeleton dance.
Shake your hands to the left.
Shake your hands to the right.
Put your hands in the air.
Put your hands out of sight!
Shake your hands to the left.
Shake your hands to the right.
Put your hands in the air.
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle.......wiggle your knees.
Dem bones, dem bones, dem dancing bones.
Dem bones, dem bones, dem dancing bones.
Dem bones, dem bones, dem dancing bones.
Doin' the skeleton dance.
For those of you requiring visual instruction, a wonderful video can be found on youtube here.
Now, you might get peculiar looks when practicing integration in public places. Workplace practice could be especially problematic, unless you are an elementary or primary school teacher. But remain true. Be a strong and radiant ambassador for integration and make the world a better place. All the doubters will thank you in the end.
I just have one more thing to say about today’s prompt and the photo that accompanied it (which for those of you who don’t get the emailed prompts had the added benefit of a shirtless Patrick Reynolds staring off into the distance in a gaze reminiscent of Christ bearing the world’s burden on his big strong shoulders. Perhaps that is why his shoulders were bare. Or maybe he's just wondering where the bottom half of his body has gotten to. I’d love to share the photo but I fear I would be infringing copyright law. Of course Jesus doesn’t seem to mind having his image plastered all over the place, now there’s a generous bloke, but one needs to be more careful with modern personages in this age of the media, especially with anyone honoured with the suffix consultant). Anyway, what I wanted to say was this:
Sam Davidson, all is forgiven.
3 comments:
Lol.
I had to go back and look at the picture. And you're right. (what's the point of the pictures anyway?)
Fair play to you for keeping it up, I found it was draining me of the will to live.
Actually, I think Patrick was mid-fart when his picture was taken (doesn't explain the toplessness but perhaps does the expression).
I love you, you're ace! Have cheered my stressful day up no end! Ta!!!!
x
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