The manner in which we stand or walk has a decided influence on what we think. When we stand with our hands on our hips and shout loud and harsh, then we view the world as a military barracks, the personnel of which are at our command. If we slip through the streets with our eyes downcast, we feel that every glance we get from others is a heavy load on our shoulders. Whether we stand with our legs apart or with our weight resting on one leg makes a big difference. Of course, this is all coarse mechanics – modes of behaviour allow themselves to be ground even finer. We can, for instance, walk as if every step were bliss; we can concentrate intensely on the movements that push us forward – something that causes spring feelings to burst forth which in turn trigger the happiness-hormone in the system. Naturally, the way we walk has much to do with the ground on which we walk; to stomp through snow is quite different from hopping through a field, to wade over gravel is a far cry from balancing oneself on the plank of a swaying rope-bridge. Standing on a rocking raft and standing with one’s feet buried firmly in the coastal sand is certainly not the same thing. Similarly, our thoughts, too, are directly dependent on the ground that lies beneath our feet. One can turn the place where one has to do the most amount of thinking into a type of tuning organ for reflection – a space with a floor on which a chequered carpet lies side by side with chequered wood, a small sandpit, loose stones, styrofoam, plasticine, cotton wool, debris, fragments, etc. One can also try to associate styles of standing and walking with certain ways of thinking. For instance, a person who stomps like an elephant through a place probably soon starts to believe in his own trunk. And one who stalks through the water like a common snipe probably takes delight on occasion in consuming raw worms and frogs – an interesting perspective for sure.
First Publication: 23-6-2013
Modifications: