Clean Underwear

I have noticed recently how comfortable I feel at the start of each day, at the point at which I put on my clean underwear.

The feel of the cotton, as it begins to resist the pull of my thigh, as they are pulled up over my buttocks to the hips – snug, tight, fresh, clean, comfortable.

The way the cut of the shorts creates space for, and supports my private parts  – safe, secure, supported, fresh.

Contrast these feelings then with the end of the day when, quite honestly it can be a relief to get them off!

A feeling of irritation around the waist where the band has rubbed against my skin.

A feeling of loose, unclean, unfresh, uncomfortable material which has long since stopped performing at a standard of cleanliness for which they had been intended.

They once clean underwear drops to the bedroom floor and I step out of them with my right foot and then flick them with my left foot into the air to catch them in my hand – I learned sometime ago that to catch them in my mouth, although perfectly feasible is oh so unadvised on so many levels.

So, by the end of the day, my clean underwear has been on a journey, and by the end of the day that journey reaches its end.

It is important I think, to be thankful for the journey, regardless of the feelings at the end point.

The journey took me forward feeling supported and safe.

The journey prevented injury and discomfort throughout the day.

The journey had its moments of joy and sorrow; light and darkness; sunshine and rain; dry and dampness!

My clean underwear, signifies for me, purpose and journey; movement and still; the cycle of my life and the forward capacity to the start of the new day.

My next blog will be : Swallowing without Tasting

William Defoe


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