Today, I went on my slow jog, my me time, my movement hour. As I turn the corner of the dirt road to join the straight path where I usually run, I come across a man in a high-vis. I look at my clock, 9am on a Saturday morning.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realise it was parkrun time”, I said, timid smile on my face.

“Don’t worry love, the path is still open to the public, you go ahead”, the kind gentleman replied.

I put my headphones back on and continued running, reflecting on the words from the podcast episode I was listening to.

A few meters ahead I joined the running crowd. I smiled, feeling energised by the companionship of the dozens of runners that surrounded me. I overtook the slower ones in front of me, while avoiding crashing with the fast ones in the opposite direction, on the left.

My joy was rapidly replaced by overwhelm. My breaths quickened as my brain anxiously architected ways to remove my body from the situation. “Oh, the podcast is still on”, I remembered. Of course I wasn’t listening to anything by this point, and I turned it off. The brain calmed down and I felt content again, curious as I watched the different runners, took notice of their form and imagined what their lives were like.

Once I had passed the parkrun section, I wasn’t in the mood for a podcast anymore and put some music on instead. I finished my run relishing on the sight of the first signs of spring around me, body full of endorphins from moving my body, being in nature and listening to my favourite tunes.

Life was beautiful in those 30 minutes, thanks to the engagement of my senses.

I could describe hundreds of episodes like this, when the world becomes too much and I start feeling anxious. It’s unpleasant, of course, and I want it to go away when it happens. Only, feelings are messages from our bodies. We can judge them, or we can observe them curiously and try to understand what they have to say.

Our western culture is productive, fast and judgemental, and sensitivity is often mocked and seen as a weakness. It is no wonder that so many people become numb, purposefully or accidentally, with substance abuse, over-working, disordered eating, retail therapy or depression.

Numbness isn’t selective towards unpleasant feelings though, and its expensive side effect is that we stop appreciating what makes life beautiful and worth living. The fresh grass can’t be felt under our feet if we’re wearing thick, warm, waterproof shoes. A hug isn’t comforting if we don’t surrender our body to it. The positive changes we make through our jobs can’t be fully appreciated if we’re focused on the next goal or pay rise. If we were all more sensitive towards ourselves, each other, and the natural and human-made art that surrounds us, our world would be a much better place for all of us.

So my suggestion today is that we all try to pay more attention to our senses. Look after them, engage with them, take care not to overwhelm them. Sit down and savour your meal at lunch time, light a candle and sit in silence watching the little flame flickering, pause your music if there is something engaging your sight, hug your loved ones tightly, take in their sent, feel the cosy warmth of the water running through you in the shower, lay on the ground and watch the clouds being gently pushed by the wind. Be overwhelmed sometimes, take a breath and notice what it is telling you, but live fully!

Be a proud “sensitive”.

Let’s make the world a better place together.