Excerpt from a larger piece in the works.
As he walked he could feel it. It sat under his skin distorting everything making even the simple act of walking unbalanced, a knot of stuck energy just right of center near where the bottom of the ribcage met his spine. A muscle once pulled against another muscle a conflict of intention. The desire that lost the muscular tug of war stayed that way, freezing up in a tense state. The rest of the muscles just learned how to move around the block.
When Cris got back to his room he put on a drumming CD and stripped out of the day’s clothes and worries. He stood in the center his feet shoulder width apart his knees slightly bent. To the beat of the drum he pulsed the muscles of his back trying to shake loose the blockage. He didn’t yet have the yogic control to flex the individual part that was stuck. His breath was one long movement the inhalation leading inexorably to the exhalation. The rhythm was getting faster as he bent forwards and backwards trying to stretch it out. He began to move his feet in and around his other movements. He swung his arm back and over his shoulder trying to jar the knot loose.
Suddenly there was a pulling a wrenching and a pain worse than Cris had felt in years. Tears flung themselves into his eyes and he let loose a cry from the bottom of his being. It felt like every failure, it felt like being cut from the team, rejected by a girl and getting caught.
And then the energy radiated out from the now free muscle and his back shook and spasmed. The tears ran freely down his face but already it no longer hurt, it felt good. Cris continued his dance letting his limbs shake and shiver. After a while the shaking settled down to a weak tremble and he lowered himself onto his hands and knees. He breathed slower and longer than he had been and he allowed the energy to flow out of him into the ground. Covered in a thin film of sweat he wrapped a thick terry cloth towel around his waist and headed to have a cold shower, his gait even and relaxed.
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