what we're meant to do

Look, here's what our bodies are meant to be doing. I love this snippet of gigantic, in-your-face joy and inescapable rhythm. A yes with every step. Starting small, ramping it up. Feeling it. Here we are, celebrating beautiful friends getting married beautifully on the verge of a hurricane. Let there be music. Let there be dancing. It's so basic, so in us. Whoever we are, however we dance, we need to move. That's all we have and all we really need. It's how we are together. Dancing animal instincts.

stay imperfect

are you toppling? stick with it. stay. see what happens. not to the point of pain. not to the pit of despair. there are imperfections. oh, yes. so yes them. they are inherent. enjoy.

we are not symmetrical. there is something creepy and hollow about symmetry or aspiring symmetry in the body. one leg is longer, surely. chances are, one of your eyes is lazy. my fingers, for example, spring out of my palms like wildflowers. our tits, or someone’s near you, are lopsided. yes. one is certainly bigger than the other. a path of seen and unseen injuries spiral up and down our bodies.

and it is not expected that our poses and prancing should be symmetrical. there are no expectations. sigh. that’s what the breath is there for. to remind us, me. stay with what you are doing. the breath is the balance. our bodies don’t have to be.

there is so much richness and delight in off-balance-itude. all daring and breath-taking things are off, into the mix, thrown, hurled. be kind. they are un-judged for lines or marks or sticking it. our bodies all do something different. yes. enjoy.

when you’re falling, ride. fly. feel where you’re going. souls or palms or elbows will guide you. stay, stay, stay as you’re falling. see what comes of it. fall apart, but see what’s happening while it’s happening. so you’re standing on one leg and it’s not working out. but it is. stay falling. stay falling. stay falling as long as you can.