now and then one does the right thing for the right reason... last week i bought a 'wobble board'.
my wobble board is a sturdy, strong disc, 40 cm in diameter: flat above and tapering conically to 10 cm below - see the picture. when placed on the floor, it rests (and pivots) on its central apex; the whole thing is strong enough to take the weight of two of me.
its purpose is to develop the body's ability to balance. i like to think my balance is quite good, but my knees and ankles need strengthening and i've always hated going for walks. sadly, because i'd rather like it - i don't have a private skateboard park: if i did, i'd certainly get a skateboard.
but happily i had an Amazon gift voucher, so i decided to treat myself. my wobble board duly arrived, and took up what i now know to be its destined position: on the kitchen floor next to the sideboard where i make tea.
in time i hope to be able to make a cup of tea - and drink it - whilst balancing on my wobble board. at the moment i can just about stand on the thing for a few minutes without falling off. i have progressed from holding on for dear life to the edge of the sideboard, to nonchalently standing on the board with my hands clasped behind my back - all in three days! balancing on the board is just difficult enough to be an interesting challenge, but (like the best jigsaw puzzles) not so difficult that one gives up immediately.
until now the jigsaw puzzle has been one of my favourite metaphors for life, but the wobble board is emerging as an even better one. 'life is a wobble board...' (time to print the t-shirt.)
one of the first things i realised about being on a wobble board was: it's ok to wobble. this may seem absurdly obvious, until you realise that your ambition is to be able to stand perfectly still; which is not what happens - most of the time. just like life, a wobble one way leads to a compensating wobble the other way - and when you take into account the circular and pivoting nature of the wobble board (and life) wobbles can go every which way, and do.
so (exactly like life) it's not so much a matter of keeping still as of accepting the truly dynamic nature of staying in one place. and yet... there was a moment yesterday when something different happened. i was lurching about, enjoying the wild ride, when... i suddenly folded into somewhere entirely present, and the wobble board came to rest... and there i was: upright, balanced, and perfectly still.
so (exactly like life) it's not so much a matter of keeping still as of accepting the truly dynamic nature of staying in one place. and yet... there was a moment yesterday when something different happened. i was lurching about, enjoying the wild ride, when... i suddenly folded into somewhere entirely present, and the wobble board came to rest... and there i was: upright, balanced, and perfectly still.
as soon as i thought about what was happening, i began lurching about again; but i could clearly recall that what came before that transcendent stillness was an instant of complete acceptance of the nature of the ride. i understood now why i'd bought the wobble board.
it wasn't to develop the strength in my knees and ankles. it was to locate the pivotal moment where everything comes to rest; balance is the key. instinctively i knew i wanted to learn something about being present; it had to be a whole-body experience, and it had to be something i hadn't done before. i find it very pleasing that a wobble board is circular: that the ride isn't linear but involves movement in all directions.
if i use that memory of perfect balance and stillness as a future objective... it won't happen again. it can only happen as a dynamic progression from movement to stillness; chaos to order. true to that process, and like a kid learning to ride a bike, i find that my body magically knows how to stay aloft.
... and it's ok to wobble - in fact it's essential.
