Light, fine snow. Grey skies with a hint of sun. My hip really took a beating on NYC sidewalks…. I begin at the end of the room and move downward to the floor over my left hip, hurts big time, make adjustments that are interesting to me. I “measure” the space, slowly, methodically using arms and feet… a reoccurring gesture one fisted hand knocking on my face gentle like a branch tapping tapping on the window.
The movement I was doing yesterday morning from 5:30am till end of the day was in the hands…busy knitting items to sell. I surely intended my presence and was aware of the small muscular movements and dexterity of my hands and my posture and the need for support as I sit. Hannah, I am wondering if there was a sense of absence of us two as you were moving?
I do something very different for me, dancing to Leonard Cohen’s new songs that are slow bluesy beat sexy smooth…enjoy myself playing with and against the dominant tempo and phrasing. I move rather big without pain and that is nice…Then start the “real” part of my SSMS time; take off the music, lie down and wait….slowly some tiny finger movements that take me to spiraling and rolling with a couple of sudden shifts from one side to the other. I am pleased and surprised that I did that kind of movement without hurting myself.
It is bitter cold outside, not as cold as Vermont but cold for Sitka! I start with the dreams I have just awoken from to begin my movement practice. My wedding ring fell apart in my dream, the stone came loose of the holding, and I was getting a new bed…..My heart was tender. I decided to embrace my heart and go forth on that journey, on the floor listening to my heart…it has been talking to me again lately…anxiety, stress, loneliness? No matter the trigger it is speaking in sputters, jumps, flutters…talking talking to me. I sound into it, low grumblings. My body has taken on a rhythmic motion of its own. I like that when the unconscious takes over and just moves me. Just let it be. Realization of the sadness all the sadness in the world. My cat rests on my chest. I welcome his warmth on my heart.
We have had 2” of snow for several days in a row! The schools were closed in Las Vegas for the first time in 25 years. The kids were delighted. I decided to do my dance in the living room for a change– BIG MISTAKE! The phone rang, the dog barked, the cat wanted in, then she wanted out, some one came to the door. After each interruption I started over again but it was hopeless, I couldn’t concentrate so I gave it up.
10” new snow – candle burning in the window… begin on the floor on my back with my feet towards the heat stove… wipe my hands on all surfaces, slowly, of my body. I touch my back surfaces to the floor… keep attending to the now… reducing to nothing the barrier between the outside and the inside, the public and the private. Desire takes me to sitting with my legs out in front – I always think of little people when I sit that way. Measuring again, tilting, expanding towards the two of you, cupping, pushing the air, swooping and holding the tiny space of light that is today up against my eyes. I am moved to near tears with the attention to detail and the falling snow and the thoughts of you two.
Late start …. Cold morning … Light candles… Sore throat … low energy. Glow of light from candles inspires music – 18 musicians Steve Reich … taxi the cat wants to dance with me… he loves to be held as I dance … he won’t go outside too cold! I start moving the 6’s from Landscape I, playing with the movements, creating little gestures. Images pop into my head faster than I can move them … this music is spellbinding and so inspirational to me… I start to imagine working with a group of dancers again. More ideas pop into my head…so I move.
I was visiting in Colorado.
I lie on the floor for quite some time, shifting, feeling my weight against the floor. My hip is aching from trying to walk (with crampons) on the ice and gripping. The pain reaches down into my knee and calf. I notice how hard it is to concentrate and focus when my eyes are open; I look at the saggy skin on my arm, at the sky, at the covers on the window seat cushions, at my paintings, at the dog at the door. I sure can distract myself. I sit on my haunches but still no juice is flowing. By the way, I am heading west on the morning of Sunday, January 18 2009 via train to see my brother and friend in New Mexico and then Zack in Colorado. I will be traveling home starting Saturday January 31.