I’ve been thinking a lot about how we live in a dualistic age, in which we are not connected to our bodies, or even actively despise them.
I shared this image on my Facebook page with this caption: Joy in movement, joy in the man and the woman, together.
People do love the photo, which is by Henri Cartier-Bresson. An interesting conversation (slightly edited here) was sparked by this question, asked by Robert Johansen:
I am, perhaps rather prosaically, wondering at a woman taking such a leap in heels. Wouldn’t she break the heel of her landing foot? Or, perhaps even more disastrously, fall and break her ankle? While the gentleman in the photo looks quite gallant, it does not appear that he could really catch her or break her fall. Could any of the ladies enlighten a clueless cleric?
My reply:
It's all in the arm action!
She will land on the ball of her foot and he is supporting her arm, through which she is fully engaged, as you can see in the muscles in her ribcage. That's why her elbow is bent! And both their bodies are taut. When she lands she will skip her other leg through.
It's all good.
It's a beautiful image of how the bodies and souls of men and women work when they fully embrace their complementarity: the man is the pivot, offering his strength in a restrained way to the woman, whose spirited agility lifts her above him as she relies on his strength -- and when she lands, they will be united in forward motion.
He isn't catching her, nor does he overpower her. She hasn't surrendered her autonomy, but in fact isn't able to clear the puddle he already navigated on his own power. She does need him.
He goes before her in order to ensure her safe passage. He leads, planting his weight away from her, in a way that has as its object her well being.
And the difficulties (the rain and puddles and danger of getting totally sodden) are a means, not a hindrance, of their mutual delight.
This is a beautiful thought you have here, Leila.
Beautifully stated. Thank you!