Dancing alone in my studio this morning to the delicious melodies of my favourite music playlist, how good it felt to move.
When I dance, I not only move my physical being, I move to the inner rhythms of emotions, sensations, pieces of information gathered in recent days, or memories gleaned during long walks in my neighbourhood of nine years.
Stirred by the splendour of nature outside my windows, I become the ghostly limbs of snow-shouldering trees dripping with salt dust, their faces lit up by the sun.
Inspired by the music’s voice, tone, pitch and vibration, anyway I move is okay. If I stumble, I open gently to the fall. If an ache surfaces, I lean into it, or softly sway around it.
I give my whole being permission to play, to feel, to explore, express, love. Grateful for the time to dwell in my own creative oasis. Here in this body, in this space, on this island, I find peace, joy and freedom on the dance floor.
A peace that allows me to connect deeply to what is.