What I try to do, when awake, is remind myself to connect.
For all of my life (in memory), that has meant moving my body. In the beginning, lucky for me, I was put into a movement class, say, when I was eight. And, “she’s a natural” was quickly relayed back to those holding the pocketbook and guiding my future.
Natural was exactly how it felt: meant to be, easy, joyful, meaningful. This led to formal training and years of it, which led to a professional career in dance, which was complicated. My connection to, the joy I experienced through movement never faltered, but it struggled to remain first and foremost my modus operandi – there were some obstacles, and, I had to compete.
But fast forward decades, aside from delivering babies (five), surgeries (nine?), and sometimes but not always, travel days, I don’t skip, I can’t and won’t miss my alone mindful time with my body. Truly, the way I look at it, pushing out a child, undergoing the knife and navigating TSA and economy plus at 32,000 feet, all require a good amount of mindful physical dexterity, anyway, and in the back of my mind, that’s how I see it, regardless (#obsessed).
The wonder and awe I continue to uncover while moving never disappoints. And even though my technical prowess, my flexibility and agility are nothing compared to what they once were, discoveries are handed to me every single day.
I am grateful.
I feel connected.
To the world.
And each day, as I find myself more, I examine my body’s reactivity, and I become more able to separate the two – the allowing and the responding.
The more I source my true nature, my synchronicity with life and the potential to move in it, the more I observe the external, the more I see you, experience you, experience your ride.
The deeper I connect to my source, the more I recognize the source in you.
It’s pretty much, just that.
Body. Mind. Go.
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