Dear Beloved Dancers,
Today was one of those slow-mind sort of days where I never quite felt like I woke up, you know? I felt dazed and sleepy all day despite a good gym workout in the morning. I remember when this used to happen to me in the before times at dance. I’d struggle to find my groove, resist my lack of energy, wanting to jump around and dance my heart out. Lori said something wonderfully wise one time (many times, actually). I’m paraphrasing but it was along the lines of, “when you stop paddling so furiously, you realize the current carries you.” It seems one must have faith in the current on occasion, right? Today was a rest day, a take-the-oar-out-of-the-water-and-relax sort of day. It was a day when I could slow down enough to notice the little things and be grateful for them. I was happy and grateful to live on a quiet street. Happy to stroll in the neighborhood with dog and husband, letting Louie sniff until his heart’s content instead of rushing the walk. It was a day when it felt good to simply sit in the dappled light outside next to my recuperating husband and read a book in his company. What registered for me was my body’s deep knowing that I do not have to dance to the dominant beat. There’s both joy and freedom in that realization.
Sigh, so much to learn in the dance practice. So much to learn from the body’s profound intelligence.
Tomorrow morning will find our incredibly talented Davida holding space and creating the sound-scape to support us and inspire us on our dance journey.
Location: 28 Pixley Ave, Corte Madera.
Start time: 9:45am
Here’s the link: https://openfloor.discology.me/events
Here’s the poetry to contemplate:
What Can I Say
What can I say that I have not said before? So I'll say it again. The leaf has a song in it. Stone is the face of patience. Inside the river there is an unfinishable story and you are somewhere in it and it will never end until all ends.
Take your busy heart to the art museum and the chamber of commerce but take it also to the forest. The song you heard singing in the leaf when you were a child is singing still. I am of years lived, so far, seventy-four, and the leaf is singing still.
~ Mary Oliver ~
May you always find a song in the leaf.