Muscle memory, soul memory...

Photo by CP

My day begin with some time in the lake.  Doctors tell us that before we're born we tumble and float in the womb.  I wonder if that's why I found floating in the water so peaceful and calming.  Does something in my body's memory, something in my soul, remember the security, the shelter, the sanctuary of my first home, the place where I began to grow into the person God created me to be?

For nine months I floated in a womb's pool: the universe as I knew it.  I lived and fed and grew; I stretched and kicked and turned; I slept and woke in a life-giving bath in the basin of my mother's belly.  Until her water broke...  And at last she pushed me forth from her safe harbor, into the world, to draw my first breath and cry out for what was lost and what was gained in being born.

I'm told our muscles have memory and I'm sure of that for our souls. It's not surprising, then, that I should find some peace and calm, tumbling and floating in the lakes' water on a morning in July.  Something deep within me remembers the security, the shelter, the sanctuary of my first home where I began to be the person God created me to be...



 

   
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