my most awake self

The practice of dealing with the unknown is deliciously delightful; especially in the case when the unknown is simply feeling the direction of down, knowing how far from the ground you are, and trusting you can survive the fall. 

I feel the most awake and present listening to the now in the dance of CI.  

In tonight's class I felt the power of the super moon, everything fell into place, a perfect flow of research, questions and play. I am savoring this moment, as there is no way this class and the flow of the evening will ever be reproducible. I am grateful for the dance, this dance, the dance that continues.

Acknowledging the curve of the lumbar, the thoracic, and the cervical spine. We play with this ribbonous landscape, the rise and fall and slippery nature of the spine. We explored the fold of the legs into the curve of the lumbar spine and the fold of the arms into the thoracic spine.

We practice not erasing ourselves, we blank out in the gap of flipping upside down and falling into the backspace. We do it again, this time time staying aware and following the moment. I see learning taking place. The practice of knowing (or not knowing) the moment and being brave enough to deal with the parameters we find ourselves within.

Meet, redirect, go through, retreat. Our vectors of truth and playful possibility.

I meet the room, I quickly prepare for an evening of trios - organizing my list of scores. One more arrives... my second moment of resiliency and draw on my resourcefulness again.  My dexterity is heightened.

I improvise, as one does in this form. I let my cells speak, I follow the dance of taking my cellular and perceptual knowledge and transfer it into words, so that it can be re-adapted for your dance. Food for thought to nourish the possibilities.  How do you pick up and follow momentum, how do you augment or extend the trajectory, how do you direct the felt flow without taking over, is going through simply shortening the time to the plum line? The students become my teacher as I transfer what I know, rich questions, I feed off the delight in the depth of our research,  you push me to give you more.  I do a silent happy dance with everyone in the room.

I feel the floor through the structural integrity of someone else's bones. Your legs become my legs.
This is why I dance.