I hold many things. Like genders, feelings, a cat and a laptop at the same time (the knowledge this is not a complete sentence, but the poetic notion to do it anyway). In this very week alone I feel like I have held the full spectrum of creative energy: from wanting to disappear, to dancing on a Sunday morning because my body asked for it.
This feels like a very new thing.
I can track in recent history other extremes, like wanting to design and execute my own university style creativity schedule for self improvement, and THEN engaging in serious rebellion against the idea of doing anything not internally motivated to the point of willful distraction. From careful calendar blocks, to the late night video chain rabbit hole.
But Maybe I Can Trust That:
Maybe all that I have gone through was an important step in bringing me here. Here feels like a calm, gentle, and curious place. Today was a dance informed by all the rest, but with sufficient energy and space to be what it wanted to be.
Today's Dance Was A Dance About:
The spine. My spine. Articulate. Vertical.
Music by Zephyr Quartet (Album: Epilogue)
Opening the door and noticing the air and light. (Despite my assumptions about what the phone weather app told me.)
Memories of dances that were about someone else and someone else's ideas, about changing the body (my body), and the patterns (my patterns).
Warming up the muscles and joints that gently asked for experience on a day I usually let them rest (or ignore them).
Being a dancer in a room with a cat.
Being ok. (And the political tension that comes with all my privilege.)
Noticing the change from the week's need for rest, to the current ok.