I actually had 3 days off in a row. The first day I tried to do as little as possible. We bought a blow up pool and I spent as much time as I could in it. Going from pool to house, to yard to dog park, to sofa, to ….I don’t remember. And that is what I wanted. To shut it down. Do NOTHING memorable. I think I read some. Spent time with Michael. Watched and felt him move around the house, sit with me, work in the office, etc. He left for Santa Fe Wednesday so I wanted to be quiet all day Tuesday, knowing I didn’t have to leave and go to work, really relishing that I could attend to quietude and listening to our lives go on in their beautifully simple/complex ways. I talked to Gertie a bunch and loved on her little soft puppy face and belly as much as she would tolerate. (whatever she’s a snuggle bug).
Anyway. Oh we did yardwork! And I paid some bills I think.
Wednesday was a fairly stressful and upsetting day. Another day off but getting Michael ready to leave compounded with unnecessary business weirdness about his trip to Santa Fe (he had to extend his trip by almost a week at the very last minute) kind of cut into what I was expecting to be a reflective but reasonably easy day. We finally got him to the airport and I began a slightly longer than a week of solitude journey. I meant to move around more in the evening (I had a skype with Noelle earlier in the day and we danced a bit together) but I took Gertie to the park instead and got a last-minute haircut. Acclimating to an empty house took the rest of the evening. Who am I kidding? It’s still going on.
Tomorrow I go back to the store. So today some shit had to get done. I had a list. I think everything got checked off. Yep. I just checked. I had a wonderful skype movement session with a friend and even though I was nervous all day leading up to it, afterward I was completely buoyed and inspired. I’m grateful for this technology and for people who are willing to cross the barrier of distance to enter into another dimension of apprehendable joy via dancing their bodies.
All of this. Explanatory diary entry style stuff is to simply put a context around what I gathered tonight from a spontaneous solo practice session. I had dinner and a cocktail and had pretty much resigned myself to not dancing anymore for the day but for some reason really wanted to get into my studio and softly jam. Something about talking to Mina about some deeply gratifying projects, giving a heart-centered skype lesson, analyzing all of the do’s of the day, and wondering what is left when the days off have been expended……made me want to simply enjoy being alive and nimble and vibrational and connected and able and aware and breathing. So of course that means getting into a dancing mode and getting into the dimensions of meaning through moving.
I’ve been dancing to Alan Watts, Dr. Joe Dispenza, Sadguru…….lectures and talks given by them (on Youtube). This is a continuation of the daily practices I used to do to Joseph Campbell lectures. After years of NOT doing this, I returned to it a couple of weeks ago to see if it’s still a potent driver for my movement explorations and TA fucking DA! It is.
Tonight was a Sadguru talk. I chose it because the topic looked compelling and it was a good length for a late night groove.
What I want to record here is that because I’m focusing lately on how to cultivate content and structure for what I want to eventually offer online, I suddenly tapped into a fundamental truth about myself, dancing, its value, my value and what I’m truly interested in sharing with people. Dance, the dancing body, mine at least, is on a quest. A search. An endless voyage to what I expect should be some sort of destination. But in reality, each movement is a destination even if it leads you to another and another. The complete feeling of one and another and the sensations of transitioning of one becoming the next gave me another insight about impermanence and re-creation. A shape or an action involves my entire system. My consciousness, my vision, my hearing, my breath, the pieces of my skin that get pulled taut by the motion and the sections that are unfelt because they aren’t being stressed by it. My blood goes with each movement and then my electrical system fires differently and my blood and bones and cells go off in a different direction. I felt like an amoeba. I was so fascinated by my head. And my hands and the creaking of the floor under my feet. For the first time in a long time I actually ENJOYED what I was doing. I wasn’t concerned about what I couldn’t do anymore or what I wished I could do better. I was just in awe of this fucking thing that my entire self knows how to do.
Then I got really fucked up in such a lovely way about how many years and how much attention i’ve given to this thing. And that it keeps on giving. Each turn of my wrist, each bend of my neck, each slide from one foot to the other….has so much information in it. I just couldn’t get over what my body/brain understands….without me, the brain me, the thinker me, directing it in even the slightest fashion. Hear words from youtube, the body begins its translation. What a fucking mindfuck of a life.