We should try to hold on to the wonder of each and every thing our body does.

Today, as I was running through the park and saying, “Good Morning” to everyone I passed, a song came into my head. If you were a child of the 1950s, ’60s or even ’70s, you may remember this song from the Cerebral Palsy telethons.

“Look at us, we’re walking,
Look at us, we’re talking,
We, who never walked or talked before.
Look at us, we’re laughing,
We’re happy and we’re laughing,
Thank you from our hearts forevermore…”

This song stuck with my family. I can remember my grandmother standing behind me, holding my hands and singing her own version of it to me as I learned to walk. It was just the one line, “Look at me, I’m walking. Look at me, I’m walking,” over and over and over. I, in turn sang it with her to all of my younger cousins and brother as they learned to walk.

It was a celebratory song: “Look at you! You’re walking! Isn’t it amazing? Look what your body can do! How awesome is this walking thing?!”

And it was filled with hope: “Wait ’til you see what else you can do! Your body will do so many phenomenal things! You will jump and run and dance and play and skip!”

Somewhere along the way, usually about one month into doing it, everyone starts to take this awesome walking thing for granted. No one celebrates it anymore. They move on to the next thing, holding our hands and saying, “Jump! Jump! Two feet! Jump!”  The wonder of walking is gone.

Each thing we can do is amazing. Just the fact that we are breathing is amazing. Our bodies are miracles of science. Our hearts beat, our lungs take in air, our legs propel us around.

Near the end of every yoga class, when everyone rolls onto their right side after savasana, I ask them to take a moment to simply be grateful for their body and their breath. I also do this to remind myself every day to be grateful, just grateful, for whatever my body can do today.

I am not concerned about what it can’t do, not judgmental about how it looks, just grateful.

These legs of mine, with their cellulite and stretch marks and spider veins are phenomenal works of art that carry me through this life. They are miraculous machines that get me from place to place.

This walking thing is awesome.

As I continued through the park with the song in my head, I flashed a huge smile at each person I passed.

“Look at us! We’re walking!”

 

Kim Redstone is a yoga teacher (RYT200), a poetess and blogger, who loves spreading the yoga, skipping, wrestling with muses, and daring The Elephant to bring it. You can follow her journey at on her blog.  

 

 

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Assistant Ed: Stephanie Richard/Ed: Bryonie Wise

 

{Photo: via Gabriel on Pinterest}