8

I'm aware of my pulse, the vitality coursing through my body. I feel surprisingly light and alive after the carry. There was never a moment of doubt that I couldn't make it, but there was discomfort. And since there was no retreating from the discomfort, the solution was to transfer it, from one part of my body to the next and between Armen and me.

All the while the image of a horse came to mind. Armen was the horse, I was the rider. His gait, breath and shifting weight brought to mind this image over and over. I thought of the labor endured by animals, the physical labor we undertook at one time to provide food and transportation for ourselves. The everyday labor of survival, now practically unknown to us. Yet we still seek it out. Our bodies crave it, though we rarely recognize it. It must be part of what inspires some of us to lift weights at a gym, to pursue sports in a complusive manner. We seek out our limitations as if in defiance of the value put on comfort and ease. Or we succumb to gavity, to convenience, and in turn we loose vitality. We become physically and spiritually disembodied.

I was being carried but I was not a passive participant in this experiment. I wasn't dependent on Armen to carry me; we were dependent on each other to complete the trip, despite the inclimate weather. On a wet, sloppy Saturday the warmth and comfort of home tempted me to stay indoors. But by sacrificing the comfort, by laboring with Armen, I am rewarded with a body made more alive.

Janie Newkirk
Portland, Maine