The Way You Move

There seem to be three kinds of movement in this world. The first is from point A to point B. You either move away from something, or towards something, or both. You trace a line through the externalities of time and space, and you end up somewhere different from where you started.

The second kind of movement is different. The point of it isn’t displacement or transportation, but creation. Rather than moving economically from A to B, you move around a point, leaving and returning, and circling back to where you started. In this kind of movement, time and distance aren’t separate coordinates, but qualities of the same experience--the rhythm and gestures of the same dance. 

There’s a third kind of movement, too. It’s the movement that happens internally, sometimes when you’re completely still, with time and space all but nonexistent. It’s not an action that you initiate as much as a grace that you receive. It’s the shift of the universe that isn’t yours to begin or end, but that includes you nevertheless.

It’s not in our nature to be stagnant. Something inside of us craves movement, but not always the same kind. Sometimes we need to run. Sometimes we need to dance. And sometimes, we just need to be still, and to let ourselves be moved.