This could take two minutes of your time.

This could take a lifetime.

Start standing.

Standing facing the diagonal.

Standing with feet flat on earth, femur bones dropping heavily from the pelvis, knees soft.

Standing as though waiting in a long line.

The arms spiral open, palms bearing all. Heart ascends slightly.

Begin to fold at the elbows.

Move slowly.

Gaze remains forward towards the end of the line - a long, long wait.

Hands arrive, fingers gently clawed, to swipe the cheekbones.

Trace backwards towards the ears to interlace fingers behind the neck.

Cradle the weight of the skull in the hands as though they are time holding the Impatient.

When the weight becomes too much to sustain, let the head fall through the cracks - this is sudden.

The head recovers, rebounding quickly from the dangerous backward plunge, to look down towards the feet. 

Stabilising.

As the hands break open, both arms move skyward. 

Reaching.

Continue to look down but let the hands fall slowly so that they cover the eyes.

Elbows squeeze in a little so the forearms are parallel.

Freeze.

Frozen now.

Freeze.

The knees unthaw first. They move forward in space.

After 5 seconds or so, when you get about half way, imagine the heart moving backwards and up, deep concave of the chest. 

Protect.

This enables the elbows to slide up the incline of the thighs, tucking neatly into the hip crease. 

Comfort.

Stay here until it feels right to move on.

Maintain the angle of the thighs but continue to bend the knees. A fall is imminent.

When it happens, trust that with time, you will be ok.

Respond quickly with the upper body, hinging backwards in opposition to the heavy legs. 

Instinct.

The body is caught on a slightly uncomfortable angle in line with the descending thighs.

Toes curled under. Elbows pulled back. Hands make gentle fists, ready at the hips.

(Internal resolve)

Slowly redirecting the torso to vertical, slide the hands behind the back so no one can see. Hands remain in fists.

Gaze back to the front of the line. A long, long wait.

The body tips and the right arm, hand still clasped, falls out like a pillar - catching the weight of the body on the knuckles.

A slow pivot begins, turning the body to profile. Sit, like in a race car, ready at any moment to take off, knees bent, chest low, determined stare.

But instead of acceleration, the whole body plummets. Limbs suspend suddenly light, moving to their own rhythm. The pelvis keeps you anchored.

Eventually the arms and legs come to find rest. The head turns to the right to gaze towards the front of the line.

You are no closer but the change in perspective is nice.

This takes two minutes.

The change in perspective is a reminder.

This takes two minutes.

We are all moving all the time.

This takes two minutes.

Keep moving.

This takes time.