Vulnerable body

I recently had a minor outpatient surgery and the recovery process has brought me back in touch with the fragility of my body.  I spend a good deal of my time dancing as much as I can, lifting heavier weights, stretching more deeply and generally searching for ways to move faster, be stronger and ignore the fact my body is not invincible.

Strangely though, I haven’t minded so much feeling this vulnerability these past days. In fact, it has been oddly grounding for me.   The day after the surgery I took a walk in the street and felt overwhelmed by the intensity of this city.  I suppose over the years I have adjusted to the brutality of living in New York City, but after having my body cut and sewn, I felt it anew.

Walking around I thought about how many people around me had recently had surgery and felt the stitches in their body pulling their flesh or were coming home from chemotherapy or had recently broken a bone.  Probably far more than I could imagine and yet now that we were all out in the street, everyone had to put on their armor on and push their way through the crowd.   But armor or not, people are out there feeling their bodies even in this ruthless city and even though we can’t talk about it or show it in public, it is a reality.  The fragility of our flesh forces us to be in contact with our humanity, with out mortality and this connects us even if we never utter a word.