Tonight I had to tear myself away from a book to write to you. I’m completely entranced by the reading experience. The book is RED, WHITE, AND ROYAL BLUE by Casey McQuiston. It’s just so dizzyingly delightful, I want to gobble it up. Yeah, there’s a pink cartoony cover. Yeah, it’s about two young men in love; one the prince of England, one the son of the first female president of the United States. Yeah, it’s a rom-com—complete with raucous sex. (whispered aside, while talking about the book during a walk today, my husband says, “you know, we have time, you can say the words in their entirety—romantic comedy” 😊). None of the aforementioned elements would seemingly appeal to my usual taste in books, but honey, I’m soooooooooooooo glad I’ve let go of any sense of a “usual taste”. I want to readily pick up any book someone might suggest, but not casually. No, I do not want casual recommendations. I only want to know about a book if the reading experience has completely blown your socks off. Yeah, that’s the bar we’re setting here. Life is short. Read good books, but read from all genres, all styles, all categories. Read because doing so exposes us to new experiences, new ways of thinking, deeper insights, broader horizons. Read because doing so helps us be more empathetic. When we read books, we can see the struggles of other people. We can see their joys, their sorrows and we know that in many ways, they are just like us. There is no us and them. There is only us. I get that through reading and it dazzles me, melts me, breaks me.
Can I share a favorite quote?
“These are not books, lumps of lifeless paper, but minds alive on the shelves. From each of them goes out its own voice. . . and just as the touch of a button on our set will fill the room with music, so by taking down one of these volumes and opening it, one can call into range the voice of a man far distant in time and space, and hear him speaking to us, mind to mind, heart to heart.” -Gilbert Highet
So here’s the thing about dance: it’s sort of like reading. I get introduced to all kinds of new and exciting people on the dance floor. We get to silently “read” each other as we dance together, whether in duet, or from across the room. We learn how to “see” with fresh eyes, to open and allow for new possibilities, new interpretations, new ways of being-----because we allow ourselves to be inspired by each other. We allow our stories to be told through our movement. Dancing with you helps me evolve as a person. Helps me understand myself. Helps me learn how to relate with and connect more deeply to others. And isn’t that the darndest thing? Isn’t it magical and beautiful and so wonderfully enticing? Yes, I do want to dance with you over and over and over again so that we can make new discoveries as we dance. Together. Such a beautiful practice, this thing we do.
Come dance with us tomorrow morning. She of the beautiful heart and soul, Lori Saltzman, will be guiding us on our dance journey.
Let’s meet tomorrow at 9:45am pacific.
An old favorite:
Saint Francis and the Sow
stands for all things,
even for those things that don’t flower,
for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing;
though sometimes it is necessary
to reteach a thing its loveliness,
to put a hand on its brow
of the flower
and retell it in words and in touch
it is lovely
until it flowers again from within, of self-blessing;
as Saint Francis
put his hand on the creased forehead
of the sow, and told her in words and in touch
blessings of earth on the sow, and the sow
began remembering all down her thick length,
from the earthen snout all the way
through the fodder and slops to the spiritual curl of the tail,
from the hard spininess spiked out from the spine
down through the great broken heart
to the sheer blue milken dreaminess spurting and shuddering
from the fourteen teats into the fourteen mouths sucking and blowing beneath them:
the long, perfect loveliness of sow.
Sending perfectly imperfect love,