Meetings Through Space    

A recent post for the Soul Motion™ newsletter. You can read the newsletter here.
I remember to nourish space; the type that enters through the nostrils and gives the body time. I take baths. These cold wet days of England would have my body shrink into aloneness, the same you may know after hours staring at a computer screen, an inverted island of contracted cells. 

So I immerse my body in the fluid space of my bathtub where I breathe until the meeting happens, in the gateway where all moments pass through. I relax, fluid space inside opens, exhales, and meets the motion of the warm water. A small dance begins, stretching seconds into hours, carrying me moment by moment up the tiled walls, down into liquid space, pressing and spiraling through slow journeys that lead across the tub, around the edges, meeting textures. 

I love these meetings, where curiosity leads, where breath nourishes silence and where my edges feel the textures of a world that includes me. Never isolated. Intimate beyond the personal.

Remembering the textures of space leads me into a life I want to walk daily. I trust the winter riverside air to clear my head of clutter and confusions. I feel the breeze of swan-flight passing by, or the trees calling me to stillness. I soften to nature’s voice. 

In town, I notice I rock weight as I stand in conversation, and words delight in rippling through the body with a taste of their own. 

To lead dance, I’ve needed to invite space, and that grew to show I need this space to fully live. So on the shrinking days when I mistake my aloneness, I head back to the bath, or stand tall to the winter sky, or conduct my fingertips through the thick pulse of the streets.
In the words of a man who graces my classes, ‘We can take our time, we’re surrounded by eternity.’

That’s another word I learned from him, for space. 


My Thursday Ritual    

‘My favourite piece is the one we hear all the time if we are quiet.’ ~ John Cage    

When I first made Esalen a home on my travels, I remember carving out time to write. I laboured days and danced nights and in the pulse of the retreat centre where voices rose over the dining chaos, I formulated a six minute story practice. 

I generally ate quietly, and at the end of breakfast, lunch and dinner I took six simple minutes that equalled a solace of hours, chose a prominent thought or visual cue, and wrote a spiral story that always returned home to its beginning. 

I share this because it is my intention on retreats to allow for individual creative practice, to take space and to follow curiosity off the dance floor and into the nooks and crannies of our days. 

Two months til April 4th-6th. A spacious weekend to listen in and out. I’d love to meet you there.

Learning from Anna    

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