These days I was feeling restless. A restlessness does not manifest in my body, but in my mind. Racing thoughts, a certain difficulty finding focus or setting a direction.
Usually, moving my body helps me a lot in these moments, but it wasn't what I was feeling like I should be doing. I opened my office locker and came across a notebook that I hadn't visited in a long time. A notebook that received my handwritten words.
It is not a diary, as our meetings did not take place every day, but it was a very visited place in different situations. I know that everything can be done in him: I can manifest through my writings likes and dislikes, likes and dislikes, dreams, fears and lamentations; and there I will not be judged—not even by myself.
There I don't need to worry about my handwriting, let alone the number of lines to compose my thought.
I decided to sit down to write and I confess that this simple gesture alone made me feel different. I felt my body and mind promptly organize themselves, as if it were a long-standing request being granted.
I realized I was missing watching the magic happen, my thoughts taking shape and contour using my hands. Each letter joins the other as if they were walking hand in hand on a late afternoon accompanied by the sunset.
That which is born of me, expressed, manifested through my own body. Time takes on another dimension, it seems that the hands of the clock pass more slowly, the speed of my thoughts needs to respect the time it takes my hand to slide on the paper. A dance happening before my eyes and the stage was the paper.
I realized that writing by hand was slowing down, it took me off autopilot. The materialization of my thought gaining contour and color deepened my breathing. A yawn and a sigh appeared as well. I stretched slowly and pleasantly, as if waking up from a deep, restful sleep.
The tension was dissipated, as well as the physical and mental tension. I felt energized, blood flowing and oxygenating my entire body. A smile broke out on my face.
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Being able to feel the slide of the pen on the paper had its magic. This meeting with myself and the approach of something that I was missing so much made me make a commitment to return not so long.
As I emptied myself, I felt deeply filled. And now I extend the invitation to you: how about taking a pen and paper and let the magic happen
