Our bodies are our gardens – our wills are our gardeners.  ~William Shakespeare

Our bodies are our gardens – our wills are our gardeners. ~William Shakespeare


This year, when did you feel the most integrated with your body? Did you have a moment where there wasn’t mind and body, but simply a cohesive YOU, alive and present?

(Author: Patrick Reynolds)


Ha ha ha ha ha ha.

Body integration doesn’t happen often. I am not terribly into bodies. Minds yes.  I like hands. I’m freaked out by feet. I enjoy a shapely male calf.

See—I’m already parceling it all up.

Sometimes when I’m walking—which I hope I will again soon—I like how it feels to be moving in the early morning or twilight—wind blowing, sweating some and looking at the outside. I’m not just thinking, I’m not just moving around in my body I’m doing both at the same time and each is impacting the other. I’m a brain person, my body is …well meat. They don’t usually play nice together or one is the transport system for the other.

Or when Bean and I and J are all snuggled in bed together. Contentment and peace

And there’s also a time at work, when there are emergencies that I’m rushing to and from, when I’m thinking fast and fixing several things while organizing three others. Well that requires everything work well together and I’m one, not two parts that make up one. It’s a great feeling. It happens when I’m writing sometimes too. I wrote a story I’m really proud of not long ago and it was weird, for about four hours I felt the same as I do when I’m walking or in the flow at work. It’s unusual.

It’s weird seeing the one day like a missing tooth in my calendar. I may just move the 10th back to the 10th—that’s kosher righ? Reverb10 isn’t like nablopomo where you HAVE to post every day. Look at me, very concerned by the rules.

Which reminds me. I came across a picture of a friend I had way back when. We both had some unfortunate circumstances in our lives. She grew up to be…aggressively normal. She has that polished together look I will never have. While I’m not abby normal, I am rather singular and I’m pretty cool with that. I sometimes wish that I could be like everyone else—wouldn’t it in fact be easier? But then when I think about what I’d had to give up I’ll keep my ragged cuticles and crazy hair if that means I get my Halloweeniversary and watching weeble and bob with the Bean (some of them) . 

I wonder….what makes some of us fit in and others not. Is it willfulness or inability? Does it matter in the end?


  1. I haven’t been posting the prompts on the day they are put forth for Reverb 10, but I do mull each of them over.

    I may do a big catch up Reverb post at some point – or not! I decided not to be too pushy with myself.

    I’d say more, but the closet situation that I mentioned in an earlier comment is at that scary “piles of meaningful piles” point. Hmm… Kerosene and a match would certainly expedite things!


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