I’m sitting in the garden. Yet another day. We haven’t mown the grass for a while, and it’s getting a bit unruly, giving home to many insects, now crawling through my body. The species I haven’t seen yet appearing and moving through the patterned ordered bumpy yoga mat. Depending on their size, they experience the surfaces differently. Those who are three times smaller than a bump, having a little pause after three consecutive steps, following a constancy of rhythm — step step step pause, step step step pause. Others, which are a bit bigger, with their bodies just 0.5 smaller than the bump, crossing in a wavy movement with barely any pauses noticeable. I spotted an aphid with one missing limb at the very back. Its movements are different from other insects, and there is a noticeable discrepancy in our expectations on how insects move. Its body is touching the yoga mat every time it’s making a step and falls on its side. No matter the species, each living body experiences spaces in their own ways, with movements which are different from one another. Subtle variations, which we don’t include in our categories, are showing the patterns of embodied movement. Learned responses, pauses and continuations, each inhabiting their own time and space.