Oh, my favorite part of being, of moving, of existing! The sensation of "feeling" different. A sense of taking a bite of a forbidden fruit and ingesting the magic of the taste, the essence of a something sensation.
That's how I feel after vacation, as though I have "drank from the punch"(if you don't know what that means, I can't help you) changed and changed shape into the directness of this time. Returning from vacation I feel bright. whole and connected to a deep sense of me. One that rests on the top of my heart, right near the ventricle. The space where the breath enters my lung. I've danced that ballet, the use of the heart as it encompasses the life and generates it outward. I was held in a glass cubicle with smoke pumped into the cube, and I with and without a gas mask, danced in time with the elements. I hope that I sparked a piece of brilliance in a mind. The choreographer was a successful engineer who was working on a heart for transplant patients. I wonder if my sense of that experience affected a heart whether nature made or man made.
I practiced letting my lungs hang within me. I let them take up immense space within my small torso with high hips and leg bones, emotion and reprieve. Throat long and loose, sending breath to the lung, as it hung and I marched or walked or hiked into the 30minute zone. Looking at the clock? yes, making good time. Take deep breaths, deep breaths into those lungs of mine.
It sounds poetic until you try walking 2 miles in that mindset. Taking your best person forward. Free from the ego that moves bodies through space on the sidewalk, into and out of my life. Posing as representations of what my body should be able to achieve, while I work with the material I have at my fingertips at my toe prints. I'm working. I'm moving and working and sharing and reaching and being and loving and losing and learning and most of all feeling. I was feeling something different. Different, I'm different and I'm fine.
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