What (you might ask yourself) would a solitude be that didn’t have some greatness to it? For there is only one solitude, and it is large and not easy to bear…. Going within and meeting no one else for hours—that is what one must learn to attain.
—Rainer Maria Rilke
When I was a youngster I loved to swing. We had a swing set in our back yard. Long stretches of time on that hand-crafted apparatus made by my father was one of the great joys of my childhood. While I don’t remember any revelations coming from those swinging moments, I believe the activity itself cultivated my inner reflective spirit. To be on my swing imagining I could almost reach the heavens and return closer to the ground without getting lost in the descent—up to blue space and down toward the green grass—provided a welcome respite from school homework, washing dinner dishes, practicing the piano, and other indoor activities. Swinging provided a momentary pause that I can really appreciate only in retrospect. Upon reflection it was much more than that, a kind of initiation or orientation perhaps into contemplation.
Swinging allowed me a certain amount of freedom without interruptions of necessary activities of family life. Flying through the air on the wooden seat, hands tightly wrapped around two ropes hanging from an A-Frame structure, and my body leaning into and out of each moment had a specific rhythm and flow. Swinging was exhilarating, comforting, and fun—no plans, just lost in childhood fantasies, more often a blank slate, ensconced in the simplicity of nature. I wandered between two worlds, it seemed.
It could be that those times waiting for a storm to pass, then rushing into the last drops of rain and the sun coming out accompanied by a rainbow were a kind of baptism to my young mind. On other occasions, with a gentle breeze on my face, on even the hottest Ohio summer days and my hair flying away from my face, a notable physical sensation of pure joy saturated every part of my being. Palms sweating, heart throbbing, legs pumping forward and backward, my face aglow, something transpired during those swinging interludes.
Even at a young age, given my proclivity toward curiosity, awe, and ritual made swinging an experience I sought as often as possible, even on moderately cool days. If asked what swinging meant to me, I probably would not have had a clear idea that could be put into words. Afterwards, I felt certain, calm, and balanced. I floated back into the house to finish any incomplete tasks or begin new ones. Looking back as an adult, I’d say that, “I met the Infinite in those playful moments of solitude.” In some way, my soul felt nurtured in those solitary ventures. Perhaps my change in demeanor had something to do with being outside, the fresh air, the sun, a beauty I couldn’t articulate, but something I intuitively valued.
Give me solitude, give me again O Nature your primal sanities!— Walt Whitman
Just for the record, science supports my instinctual transcendent experiences. Besides the therapeutic benefits of swinging, it provides “a complex , sensory rich activity that fosters a sensory integration….” and brain activity. Thus, the developmental benefits for children cannot be ignored. Because of the constant activity of the body to maintain motion, in the activity of swinging the nervous system is stimulated which enables children to adapt to their surroundings with skill and agility. The back and forth motion of the swing aids in balancing the inner ear and increasing blood flow. Perhaps this is why after some time swinging I was ready to focus on indoor tasks. With a balanced system I could engage in a wholesome integrated fashion; calmly and joyfully.
Besides being an outdoor activity, swinging is great for motor and sensory skills, as well as being enjoyable and life-affirming. As it turns out, what is good for children is even better for adults. Swinging enhances core strength which can improve posture and help with stability. And as a non-impact activity, the likelihood of injury is greatly diminished. And swinging might even have mental health benefits, as well. These are just a handful of the advantages of this kind of play.
IMAGINE an intergenerational playground of elders and children swinging together and the sounds of glee floating though the air. Oh what a joy that sight would be.
During a sacred dance week long ago, I invited Joanna Haigood to bring her swing trapezes to the seminary. Many of us took a turn at being differently balanced in the world. It wasn’t a Swing like the ones from childhood but just as powerful. from that point on I had a fantasy of hanging swings from trees outside of corporate offices- or anywhere adults might be found. I don’t think I was the only one who realized swinging could be an antidote or just the medicine we need.