Are we ready to dance again tomorrow morning?
I’ve been considering the notion of play lately. What does it mean to play? To really let yourself go and have fun? I’ve tended to have this underlying assumption that life is about work, hard work, and I need to muscle through it. I seem to have somehow lost my way with play and pleasure and fun. Work. Stress. Work. Stress. Repeat. Even the things that are supposed to be “fun”, I can sometimes manage to transform the activity into work, or something that needs to be checked off my list (e.g. going to the gym---even though I genuinely enjoy going to the gym and moving my body). Life too often in recent months feels like a burden that must be endured. I want life to feel like a gift that is meant to be savored and enjoyed, where there’s time for pleasure, play, and fun. Tonight at dinner, my husband and I were discussing what we consider “play”. And what’s “fun”? And yes, recognizing that the pandemic may have transformed our ideas over the past year on the subject. He asked, “do our trips to the cabin near Ashland feel like play?”. No, but they certainly don’t feel like work, either. Being at the cabin in the mountains feels like deep rest, like nourishment for my soul. It’s been a heavy year, I’d like to invite more laughter and playfulness into life (for us all, really). I want to rediscover that childlike sense of play; no outcome, just being in the moment with fun and pleasing activities. As I thought more deeply about Roy’s question, I said, “dance often feels like play”. It’s dreamy to leave my thoughts behind and simply be curious about the movement of my body; to allow my body the freedom to move to the music, to move in response to another---as it will. Dance feels glorious. Dance feels like fun. Dance feels like play. And yes, there are also times when dance feels transformative. And this is why I love our dance practice so very much, because my body seeks and finds profound pleasure in movement. May it be so for you as well.
Please join us tomorrow on the dance floor at the park in Corte Madera or wherever you feel like dancing.
9:45am Pacific time.
It tickles me, delights me, makes me tingle from the top of my head to the tips of my toes to tell you that Kathy Altman will lead us in the dance tomorrow. We are in good hands, my Loves. VERY. GOOD. HANDS. INDEED.
I have two poems to share with you tonight. (whispered aside: I had such fun finding these poems for you. Thank you for the honor of this weekly endeavor. It gives me pleasure to write these words, inviting you to come dance together in community.)
I AM REALLY JUST A TAMBOURINE by Hafiz
Makes the universe admit a
Really just a tambourine,
Against your warm
TODAY, LIKE EVERY OTHER DAY by Rumi
Today, like every other day, we wake up empty
and frightened. Don’t open the door to the study
and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.
Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.
May you find abundant fun, pleasure, and play in your day. Always.