Hello, Beloved Dancers.
How does this wintry evening find you? I’m cozy by the fire, reading a book.
A few weeks ago, I stumbled across a Thich Nhat Hanh quote that’s been lingering in my mind. I’d like to share it with you: “When we walk like (we are rushing), we print anxiety and sorrow on the earth. We have to walk in a way that we only print peace and serenity on the earth . . . . .Be aware of the contact between your feet and the earth. Walk as if you are kissing the earth with your feet.” Isn’t that a delightful invitation? It matters how we move in the world, how we move through the world. Lately, when I think of it, I like to quietly whisper “kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss” with every step and feel the gentle connection between my feet and the ground, thus inspired by Thich Nhat Hanh. It’s fun! I’ve not yet tried dancing while imagining my feet kissing the floor, but there’s always tomorrow. 😊
I’m beyond thrilled to report that our beloved Claire will be leading our moving meditation tomorrow in Sausalito.
And here’s a poem about how starlings move through the world . . . . . .
Starlings in Winter
Chunky and noisy, but with stars in their black feathers, they spring from the telephone wire and instantly
they are acrobats in the freezing wind. And now, in the theater of air, they swing over buildings,
dipping and rising; they float like one stippled star that opens, becomes for a moment fragmented,
then closes again; and you watch and you try but you simply can’t imagine
how they do it with no articulated instruction, no pause, only the silent confirmation that they are this notable thing,
this wheel of many parts, that can rise and spin over and over again, full of gorgeous life.
Ah, world, what lessons you prepare for us, even in the leafless winter, even in the ashy city. I am thinking now of grief, and of getting past it;
I feel my boots trying to leave the ground, I feel my heart pumping hard. I want
to think again of dangerous and noble things. I want to be light and frolicsome. I want to be improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing, as though I had wings.
~ Mary Oliver ~
That last bit is worth repeating. Don’t you think?
“I want to think again of dangerous and noble things. I want to be light and frolicsome. I want to be improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing, as though I had wings.”
May we each know our wings.
May we each know fearlessness.