Coming to Our Five Senses
I've had a mechanical relationship with my senses.
I'd use my eyes to see, ears to hear, finger tips to find keys at the bottom of my bag.
I'd use my senses. I didn't really nourish them.
But that's changing. I've realized that to nourish them is to nourish myself. And self-nourishment, which we never get taught, is essential to coming into our wholeness as humans.
The beauty is that sense nourishment often doesn't take much time or money. Just a willingness to linger longer than usual.
I walk with the rising sun. I've slowed and let my eyes take in the light crimson rimming the horizon.
At the grocery store, I spent a minute smelling soap bars - licorice, rose, coconut, honey, pine. It was a gentle indulgence; I'd do it again in a heartbeat.
When I'm working, I've been listening to every possible show tune. Saccharine, profound, operatic, gritty. And my ears go bananas.
Of course it's not just my ears. When we nourish one sense, that nourishment reverberates throughout our whole selves. Music moves more than ears. Seeing the Grand Canyon moves more than eyes. Warm caramel moves more than taste buds.
Our senses, I've come to believe, are portals into our soul, spirit, wholeness, whatever we call that part of ourselves that wants to really live, not just get by.
So as I move through my day, I am, again and again, trying to come to my senses.