What is seen. What is felt.
Dearest Dancers,
We’re drawing close to what will hopefully result in big changes for our country. Of course I refer to the election on Tuesday. There’s a certain amount of anxiety in the field right now. Can you feel it? And what are you doing with it? How are you managing? Today, I hiked with a dear friend. It soothed me to be in nature, to witness the beauty of blue sky, majestic trees, and water to the horizon, reflecting the sparkly sun. The combination of the gorgeous view and the exquisite company filled me up. We were sitting together, overlooking the ocean when we were delighted to spot a whale spout. Minutes later, I thought I could see something large swimming in the water, so I pointed it out to my friend. She said, “Sweetie, that’s a boat.” Yeah, maybe I do need glasses. What occurs to me is that I thought I was seeing something really special, but then I laughed when I discovered it was just a boat. My understanding of what I was seeing shifted and the magic evaporated. I wonder where else that happens in life. How might I shift my perspective, shift my mindset to more readily see the beauty, wonder, and magic of the world. . . .yes, even during these challenging times. As we walked back to the car together, we paused and simply took in the stunning view that surrounded us. And we let that beauty sink in, to let the joy of the moment be celebrated as a felt sensation in the body. Yes, I need more joy right now and perhaps you do too. I need to see what’s good and pure and beautiful in the world and I need to mark it, to take it in. I was so grateful for my time with my friend today. Nature, movement, and connection are definite mood enhancers for me. I hope you’re getting what you need right now, that you can find a slice of joy in the day and celebrate it. . . .and then notice how it feels in the body.
Tomorrow, my slice of joy will be dancing with you via Zoom. Yes, I’d much prefer to see you, to hug you, to sweat with you on the dance floor in Sausalito, but this is what we have right now. I’m grateful that I get to see you. Loving the spotlight activity on zoom. Brings me joy!
Speaking of joy, my heart does happy somersaults to tell you that tomorrow our beloved Lori Saltzman will be holding the space for us, providing the soundscape, and guiding us in our dance journey. I hope to see you there.
Here’s the link: https://www.openfloordance.org/community-dances
And here’s a beautiful poem that I know I’ve shared before, but I thought of it today, high up on the cliff overlooking the ocean, when I realize the magical and mysterious being I imagined seeing swimming in the water, was actually just a boat.
Enjoy.
Monet Refuses the Operation
Doctor, you say there are no haloes
around the streetlights in Paris
and what I see is an aberration
caused by old age, an affliction.
I tell you it has taken me all my life
to arrive at the vision of gas lamps as angels,
to soften and blur and finally banish
the edges you regret I don’t see,
to learn that the line I called the horizon
does not exist and sky and water,
so long apart, are the same state of being.
Fifty-four years before I could see
Rouen cathedral is built
of parallel shafts of sun,
and now you want to restore
my youthful errors: fixed
notions of top and bottom,
the illusion of three-dimensional space,
wisteria separate
from the bridge it covers.
What can I say to convince you
the Houses of Parliament dissolve
night after night to become
the fluid dream of the Thames?
I will not return to a universe
of objects that don’t know each other,
as if islands were not the lost children
of one great continent. The world
is flux, and light becomes what it touches,
becomes water, lilies on water,
above and below water,
becomes lilac and mauve and yellow
and white and cerulean lamps,
small fists passing sunlight
so quickly to one another
that it would take long, streaming hair
inside my brush to catch it.
To paint the speed of light!
Our weighted shapes, these verticals,
burn to mix with air
and change our bones, skin, clothes
to gases. Doctor,
if only you could see
how heaven pulls earth into its arms
and how infinitely the heart expands
to claim this world, blue vapor without end.
With an ever-expanding heart,
KB