Let's not put screens on any window

Last night I watched the sunset through my open window as I took a shower. The cool evening breeze mixed with the hot steam from the running water was a welcome, easy contrast to my long day. Watching the sky change to orange and purple and yellow I washed my hair invited the scent of shampoo and dusk into my senses.

I put on a loose dress, made dinner, and sat on the back deck, finally accepting that spring was here. The temperature outside was perfect. I felt as though my skin were the air and the air was my skin, there was no barrier.

Practicing guitar by the light of a single candle, I sang to the stars with my out of key voice and strummed along to the crickets with not a particularly good rhythm.

Why can’t everyday be an adventure? Why can’t I make every moment worth sharing? Traveling makes it easy to experience life in a new way. When I don’t have that luxury, I’ll accept the challenge to make every day a new and exciting endeavor. Inviting interesting happenings into my life and accepting mundane experiences as learning tools regardless.

War Paint

Running her fingers through the wet earth she dons her war paint.
Two bands around each arm. Stripes slash each cheek. A dot in the center of her forehead and a streak down the center of her face. Wrist bands and chest paint and two hand prints on her stomach. At her throat, beads of clumped, dried, mud cling like an amber necklace.

As she watches the sunset, she builds a fire. The flames growing larger, the stars appearing brighter, the crickets getting louder and the music in her bones becoming stronger. She cannot help herself. She must be free. The dance courses through her blood. Leaping to her feet she whirls around the flames. Kicking up her heels and letting our loud whoops of delight to the drum beat in her heart.

All night she sings prays to the divine. Her heart becoming open and pure. Sweat cleanses, rinsing her clean – returning the carefully applied armor to the earth from which it first came. At length she rests, curling by her dwindling fire, exhausted yet fulfilled. Like the embers of the fire, she glows. With a smile on her lips she dreams.

As the sun rises once more, illuminating the world, so too is her life once again lit.
She is now ready for the battle of another day.

What language do you dance in?

What language do you dance in?

I dance in hips side to side.
I dance in feet out and back.
I dance in arms round and around.

I dance from the music in my heart and the sounds from my stereo.
I bounce my shoulders up and down.
I wave my head back and forth.

I dance with expressions of my body.
Emotion comes from somewhere deep inside and I talk about it with spine undulations.
Words are not necessary for I have my extremities to do the talking.

I dance
I dance
I dance

It’s not pretty
It’s not even rhythmic
It’s just say what I have to say in the way I have to say it

What language do you dance in?

Magic Carpet

When my life seems to be turning upside down, the best remedy is to turn myself upside down.
So, with my yoga mat as my magic carpet for the day, I find myself in a backbend in the middle of my cardboard box, cluttered living room.
With nothing else to right me, I turn myself upside down.
Arms and legs grounded, belly flying high.
But who’s to say there’s a right side up anyway?
Yes, we walk with our feet, but some people walk with their hands.
Hey, some people even walk with their heads, physically and metaphorically.
So when I’m presented with obstacles I think of my life as a video game – all I have to do is conquer the first limitation and I’ll get to the next level.
I am able to jump, leap, turn and bend if the need be.

The only thing obscuring my bendy ability is my mind.
So if I can tell my ego to shove it for a little while, I might get something done!

Move baby move!

With the rhythm of life pounding on my chest I have no choice but to joint in
To defy it
Rally against it
Would be my destruction and
D
O
W
N ward demise
Like a fist drumming on my heart, I choose to step into the current and flow not fight
In an
d
r
a
w
p
u
spiral
I direct my attention and lift my thoughts to the heavens
My eyes,
torso,
pelvis,
knees
&
feet
F-A-L-L-O-W
In a back bend I offer out my Greatest potential
Shining like the light from the Sun
Belly and spirit raised in a humble offering
My fingers and toes RADIATE
Twirling, as I glide across the wooden floor, perfecting my rise and fall MOTION
The MUSIC in my being courses through my veins and runs along my vertebrae
Sending MUSIC to my every cell

Let me MOVE while I’m alive!
Let the pulse stir me
My heartbeat will suffice
Dhoom, DHOOM, dhoom
Always, some part of me is
D
A
N
C
I
N
G!