I’m thankful for the motion of this day. I woke up with my branches twisted into knots and my roots all confused and mired. My life earth was sodden with tears and sorrows and blanketed in a fog of anxieties and fears.
I danced this morning. Or at least tried to, but my roots wouldn’t slog through the heart muck and I was held still and sinking.
I divorced my mind from my situation and managed to teach classes. When class was over, however, and I checked my status I was deeper in the brackish waters that disturbed me and I couldn’t see my own reflection. I couldn’t see my road traveled. I knew where I was but had lost track of where I had been.
I came back to listen to the Day three music and thought on the boundaries and thought about how I might identify the boundaries of my passages.
I moved and twirled a bit and wasn’t feeling it. I decided to ask others to help my identify where I had been. I couldn’t see myself at that point; couldn’t find my rhythm. Didn’t know if I were just a mirage.
I expected little motion, but people stepped into rhythm with me and told me how I had brought music and motion to their lives. Slowly the brackish waters retreated, and the muck dried and crumbled off my roots, and my branches were unraveled.
I sat with my partner and we unraveled together. We then knitted the unwoven back together with love and compassion and that brought spark to my limbs and heart. As the evening came to a close I returned to the playlist and found motion and play. We danced and danced and played and were motion and creation. Twice we moved and danced to the music, and in the deep dark of the night, my limbs unfurled, and my sun rose, and I was nourished.
Thank you for this motion.