The wisdom of the Swiss ball

In an effort not to bore myself into inactivity by going to the gym, I have thrown myself into a 2011 exercise programme that involves aerobics, dance classes, and a Swiss ball class, which I've just come from as I write.

Now, I realise that a Swiss ball class was always going to have a comedy element, and so it has indeed proved. Learning how to fall off without breaking my neck has proved both exhausting and hilarious in equal measure, though it's nowhere near as gut-bustingly funny as those liminal moments where I am neither balanced nor completely out of control and am hanging gracelessly onto a postion that's vaguely like the ones on the posters, with my will power at full operating temperature, my face a curious shade of purple and my entire tremulous frame belying the victory that my ego is wildly claiming. 

Today was no exception, though there are clear signs of progress. I can at least balance on my knees on the damned thing for about 10 seconds without holding onto the wall, something I couldn't do a month ago.

But a curiously moving thing happened to me as we were going through some warming-down routines, which were based (I think) on Tai Chi. I began to watch myself in the studio wall mirror as I was stretching and following the moves and I saw something that I hadn't seen for probably thirty years or more.  I saw myself making graceful lines. I saw moments of the body of the nineteen-year-old me. I saw something in my movement that had remain untouched by time, that had not given in to the pressure and strain of a western lifestyle, that remained in a state of almost innocence.  I saw something in the manifest realm, in my incarnational body, that had not aged at all, that remained unblemished, perhaps even perfect.

I want to get to know this thing, this feeling, this elemental graciousness, this thing that I can't break, that remains with me despite my not quite knowing where to look for it. I have always thought that my body was designed for carrying sacks of potatoes up mountains, but now I want to spend time exploring what elegance there might be in it. Maybe I can even contemplate starting to think of it as beautiful. Man, that would be something!