Play and the unexpected

THE NATURE OF US

As every child knows, there is nothing like an unexpected thrill - the surprise you hadn’t even imagined that takes you to a new place, the place you never saw coming.  The punchline of a great joke, the surprising turn on a new trail, the thrill of hiding and never knowing how they’ll find you – we come right into the moment when we teeter on the edge of anticipation.

I was reminded of the unexpected this morning when I woke up from a restless night of sleep, disoriented, achy, feeling way out of my body. Eventually I started writing on the floor of my living room, alternately scribbling a few unedited sentences and rolling around the floor, feeling into my body. I began to feel my tailbone, wiggling it free as I have been doing the last few days.

A sound came from my throat – plaintive, mournful, and I remembered the whale video I had seen recently, in which a whale was caught up in fishing nets, his tail and fins totally bound, he was barely able to surface to breathe, and death was imminent.  The divers worked for what seemed like hours to free him, with only one knife. The sound that came out of my mouth was akin to whale sound, and as I continued to move my tailbone and make sound, I found myself in a web of voices, seemingly connected to whales and others around the world.

Back to the actual whale video: eventually they were able to free the whale, and he began to swim off.  That seemed like the end of it, but suddenly he turned and breached into the air in a thrilling display of power and joy. Again and again, he leaped into the air, exhilarated, free, and perhaps - to communicate his thanks. 

As I continued to move on the floor, I spotted a nearby gym ball, and began to lie back on it. I wasn’t quite centered as I stretched back however, and suddenly I was spiraling around in circles, eventually landing on the floor. A whoop of pure delight came from my throat, that childlike joy and body rush of absolute fun. This unexpected surprise ending had delivered me into a deeply felt full-bodied delight, and I pondered the simple joy of being thrown off balance and recovering. I began to play with balance, standing on one leg and instead of earnestly trying to feel stability, as I often do, I let myself improvise and explore, my arms swinging and my unweighted leg moving in funny ways, deliberately searching for the play between stability and chaos. 

This was exhilarating. My balance actually improved by not over-efforting. This unexpected play led to further insights, such as how the uncertainty of any moment can go many ways – the whale could have killed the men who were attempting to save it, or I could have hurt myself when falling off the ball. Yet somehow in both cases there was trust. The men were acting out of love, and I’d like to think that the whale felt their caring. 

And since I have a lot of experience playing on balls, my body knew how to move more quickly than my mind could follow. Yet we never know the outcome of any moment, despite our careful planning and control, almost anything can arise. Thus lies the possibility of unexpected delight, un-imagined turns and twists in the plot, and more aliveness.

Another insight I had: I can go to sleep in daily life, when I think I know what is going to happen. A simple stretch of my leg, if I think I know the pathway my muscles should follow, becomes boring and lifeless when my mind is elsewhere. It is only when I am feeling moment to moment into what I am doing, that I can be present to the unexpected. My body’s ancient roots include rough terrain, swinging through trees, and exploring in jungles – my body yearns for novelty, the unexplored pathway, and comes alive to the new. I felt very rejuvenated by my improvisational exploration this morning; my play and accompanying thoughts are a simple example of an adult playing.

I know I feel better when I try something different, whether hanging from a tree or taking a different path or trail. I find unplanned free time is the best support for play and discovery of the new. Not answering the phone, not on the computer, just being with oneself and the curiosity to explore. We can imagine that unplanned time may be boring, yet what I find is precisely when I follow my curiosity, I enter more deeply into my inner world and body.

Here is an example of what I did with a free rainy afternoon when I couldn’t go outside:

It began with my body and what was hurting. I noticed my right side aching. My foot, my leg, my hip and back ached, and at the same time I was feeling heightened worry about support, finances, and direction. I begin to relax into myself, into my tight jaw as well, and I become aware of how effort has been a part of my life, pushed to be the best and achieve a certain perfection, and how that effort has created a wiry tight cord of muscle up and down my body - an inner tension that is always in the background. I gently breathe and absorb pure love through my right side, just being with the tightness and watching what is unfolding. I relax more deeply, and feel an effortless space where I am supported and accepted for just being myself, not my achievement.

I become aware of my lungs, and how when they breathe my heart can rest back on them like a nurturing pillow. I have the sense of another way to be, more receptive to life, letting it roll through me like a warm fog coming from the ocean. In contrast to me in a slicker, fighting to walk two feet in a driving storm.

Can I trust nature, trust life . . . an inner wealth of feeling and fullness emerges and I feel the breathe in my belly now. I get up and walk around, feeling softer yet more solid in my body. My thigh muscles feel lighter and relaxed. There is less pain in my right side now, a great relaxation. Then I take a bath.

Later I dance. The joy of surrendering to the music, becoming the music. My body is feeling more relaxed and fluid. I wake up the next day with a more relaxed body.

This exploration was a unique unfolding from within me. Each of us will have a different experience, depending on the day or moment. This is an example of how we can relax into the unexpected, without anticipation of where we are headed, and let our inner creativity take over.

The following two essays from the past are relevant to this topic, take a look:

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Each of us is unique, creative, and individual

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Creativity, improvisation - and dance!

We each are uniquely organized, shaped by our histories and experiences, yet there is always more to discover and unearth about who we individually are. I hope you will take the time to explore. Or I can guide you in person or on zoom. The story about my aching body is an example of somatic inquiry, and how I resolve issues within myself - or guide clients to discover deeper layers.

And sometimes just sitting quietly is just the deep silence we need.

Thank you for joining me here today!

Sabrina Page, MA in Philosophy, Cosmology and Consciousness I work with individuals and groups, with a focus on somatic inquiry and embodiment, to support you in living life fully, freely, and fluidly, intertwined with nature. As well, I have studied movement, dance and astrology with some of the leading individuals in their fields. My private sessions are offered on zoom, phone, or in person in Bolinas, Ca.

More information is available on my website, sabrinapage.com

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Two earlier posts relevant to this essay.

Sea of Rhythms

Bodies of Water