Be the change you want to see.

Tonight was my first time back to Monday night dance in a little while, at least a few weeks. Our Thursday night dance got canceled because we didn't have enough attendance, and that is the dance that I have been going to. So tonight was good though, the music was good and that exercise we were doing involved selecting a partner, and practicing dancing at various distances from each other, thinking ourselves about our own boundaries, where our skin holds us, and how it feels at distances of, 12 in 6 in and 2 in the other person. It was a good exercise for thinking about boundaries, how to recognize somebody else's boundaries, and also to check in with your own comfort levels at different distances from other dancers. Of course it matters who it is you're dancing with, I'm more comfortable dancing with some people than others. But yeah good time. And then I came home and Jeff had ordered pizza from a place called my Indian Pizza, so I had a slice of butter chicken pizza and some kind of a roll of stuffed with curry sauce. I needed that I danced a lot tonight! Lol.

wow.
this weekend I went with my friend Chelsea to a 3-day workshop for the dance form we both study in, called Open Floor, or Five Rhythms...
it was such an amazing experience, that I still can't, partly don't want to, wrap words around it.
the kind of time that feels like you'll break the spell if you try too hard to describe it, too precious to try to explain.

Here's the KIND of weekend it was though: flirty fun floaty flowy.

I danced and moved and explored and stretched and didn't take long breaks for the entirety of the session. Fri 7-10 pm, Sat 11-2 and 3-6, Sunday 2-7 with a break at 4:30-5.

So call it thirteen hours of being carried along by the dance and the moving and the community and the exploration of what my physical self is capable of. Beautiful, ugly, silly, boring, all of it, range of motion, all the different moods and impulses that the music and our teachers encouraged to come out.

Aside from emotional and self esteem shift-change-improvements, the physical improvements are tremendous.
my shoulders feel totally liberated, I can move them n all kinds of directions, watch my collarbones be mobile (what??)
and late on Saturday I had THE most painful kind of muscle cramp, in my low right abdominals, at first I was like, shit I overworked them but I dug my fingers into the muscle to try to support them (through the deep belly fat) while they cramped, breathed and hollered a little (I was actually sat down in the loo when this triggered, heh)

but when the cramp finally released me and I was able to stand up again, there was this... only way to describe it, freedom, open space, liberation? in my belly and my hip and leg and belly and back were straighter, looser, more limber... I had a new rotation in that hip, as I discovered when we returned to the dance floor, a new violence was possible in my movements, explosive and HUGE.

I need to move this some more, because it's immense and gorgeous, after seventeen years after the initial injury, this precious body has found strength and release and liberation.

I wasn't larger than this body, or smaller than this body, but exactly body-sized; and everything was full of flow and amazement.

I have a completely different belief about what I'm physically capable of now, and the crunchy painful fear and worry has softened and melted and released and ALLOWED.

...Right now, if you're reading this: for just a moment, roll your neck gently, move your shoulders around in circles, twist your torso, wiggle your hips, flex your feet. If like me, you tend to sit a lot, take a moment to check in with your body and love it with some movement.

and that's what I have for now. Got a busy day today, looking forward to it.

YOU know that the music made me do it... I saw that look in your eye, that glint of mischief.
the music made me flirt with you, how could I do otherwise, with jaunty jigs and reels whirling around in the pub...

the fiddle made me flirt with you, the drums made me dance with you, the pipes helped me pirouette, the singing helped me swing.

I could dimly hear the music from the parking lot across the street as I leaned against the car and invited you to the Fair.

you said in a soft voice, looking up from under those long, dark lashes, "are you asking me out?"
and that delicious twist your vowels used to make is still branded into my own way of speaking.
I said yes, I'm asking you out (yes i said yes i will yes).

we probably walked three miles that evening, had crepes and talked and told one another important and amusing stories, and never DID make it out to the fair. I can't remember when we first kissed, it seems like I've always been kissing you, even before I met you.

our second date was TEN DAYS long. *headshaking in disbelief* Eleven years later, I still can't believe how sexy and engaged and satisfying you were, how WE were together.
can't believe you.
can't believe US.

I spent so long looking for that kind of an US, and hurting for the lack of it.
I never take us for granted.

our third, or something, date, I drove down to visit and you'd gotten hold of both albums by an artist I had newly come to love.
I was flabbergasted. you took MY musical opinion seriously? soaring vocals and driving drums brought epiphanies...

you said, "Your words have an IMPACT, you know?"
and i... I... that was the start of me falling in love with you.

you said, "You're aren't broken, you're just bruised up some."
you said, "Come here and cuddle me."
you said, "I can't wait to get my hands on you!"

you said, "What do I do when we're waltzing, to show the follow where to go?"
I said, "you put her where you want her!" and that wicked glint showed for a moment before you scooped me up under my bum and carried me away and dumped us on the bed, both of us laughing hysterically.

you sang for me, little hilarious Canadian bar bands, and old sea songs, and we both rediscovered the round about barges sailing away on adventures.
and I sang for you, all the songs to sing together, all the harmonies, all the rounds I could think of.
we sang all the delightfully filthy or screamingly ridiculous songs I learned from decades working the Renaissance fair.

then you went away and I was sad, but we shared our love and our longings with words on internet and phone
and we missed each other
but then you came back and I had never, or maybe once before, known such blinding happiness.

because you came back, and we had music together again.
we had dancing together again (I will always love to waltz with you in the kitchen and wedding receptions)
we had singing together again (remember the UU choir and the parties at the "choirloft"?)

we had a home together.
we have a home together.

and now you play piano for yourself and for me, and the music makes me move, stretch and dance, or makes me curl up on the sofa next to you and watch you play (I never get tired of watching your hands and your face when you play piano)

and I think we should sing more, together and separately.

but definitely we should keep making beautiful music.
Together.


My entry for therealljidol this week. Prompt was "the music made me do it." I didn't fall in love with Jeff (eeyore42) JUST because of music, but music of ALL kinds, definitely helped.

More links here shortly.

Had just over half a workout yesterday. Traffic conditions conspired against me getting to the gym on time.

Tal still hella kicked my ass though, ow, my quads... Ow the tails of my pectorals.

Lots of assisted squats and rowing using the straps and handles that hang down from the frame.
One exercise she had me do after some inverted rowing was where you hang in the full arm extension position, body is straight, heels on the ground. Body's hanging at about 45° to the floor. Normally from here you row up. This time she had me walk one foot about 8" back so my knee was bent, engage that leg for support, and the "row" was to open your arms like wings. Like doing flies with weights, but the effort to raise your body is in the pulling your arms straight back at shoulders height. Wow that was interesting!

Squats included squat coming up to toes, and squat coming up to hop up, land smoothly and into another squat. That was interesting too! Rough to do the first few times til Tal pointed out where I was having difficulty. I think I can do those again, without a problem.

And then yesterday I spent time with Nicole talking costumes for Burning Man, and mid afternoon I pinged M and N to see if they'd like company for dinner. It worked out well for me. I got fun friendly company for dinner, and got to leave the house free for Jeff to have some quality time. :)

One neat thing I noticed during the dinner engagement, was after this frustrating parking lot thing (had to go back and forth to my car multiple times when the pay station turned its nose up to my credit card)... The neat thing was casually jogging back to my car. Because I could. And didn't care who was watching. Probably helps that I was still wearing my gym shoes and shorts and (ahem) an appropriately supportive undergarment... But I did it. Just for fun, and maybe to show off a little. :)
*boggle*

I was thinking on the way home that it'd be interesting to challenge myself on the treadmill at the gym... See if I could run, say, for three minutes straight. And how many intervals like that could I do? Three running, one walking. Could I do that? Seems fun to try!

So there WAS one not-cool thing about dinner last night but that has to do only with the food.
The food was delicious, don't get me wrong. However I failed in my choices as a newly minted diabetic. One rainbow roll, one deep fried oyster (thanks for sharing, N!), one spicy hamachi hand roll, two unagi nigiri, a bit of iceberg lettuce in that slightly sweet peanut sauce salad dressing, and green tea.
So the massive amounts of sushi rice included in that tally sent my blood sugar levels thru the roof, sort of. Two hours after eating my score was 241. That's TWICE my post-meal average.

Dammit. I do love sushi rice but it certainly doesn't love me. Pfui.
Time for New Choice when I go for sushi.

Last thing, to end on a high note: the final cool thing about my day was getting trapped, or rather "trapped" in the parking lot, because I found the situation delightful!

A batería, a Brazilian drum corps, was playing at the far end of the lot, past my car. And then M, N, and I notice there's samba dancers, dressed in feathers and fringe and heels, starting to get organized behind the batería. They wind up playing and marching slowly/dancing, circling the lot, for like fifteen minutes. I loved it.

I posted a couple of crappy photos on FB, and one old friend says, "you didn't join them? Why not?" Argh stupid Engraved Invitation Syndrome. Eh. But it looked like enough fun that I'm going to look up the dance group (Samba Conmigo) and see if they do lessons.

So yesterday was A Good Day.

Posted via m.livejournal.com.

Overdid it at 5Rhythms tonight. Tried to stretch out before I'd properly warmed up and I think I strained my left hamstring...

 

the upside was, I was kind and gentle to it all night, and while I was kind and gentle to IT,I was also trying counter-stretches (quads and hip flexors) to ease the muscles' tightness, AND I found that I could *finally* stretch that little muscle on the inner thigh of my surgery leg... the one that spasmed so tight that I bruised my flesh badly trying to self-massage and make it relax... only then I still had to spend 30 minutes the day after, with my massage therapist and hyperventilating through the pain while he calmed the cramp.

 

that muscle actually stretched tonight!

 

but I still over did it. and now my back, butt, hamstring and knee are ALL tender.

 

ow. two steps forward, one step back... foxtrot? tango?
anyway.
time for bed. had one delightful partnered dance, but mostly danced alone tonight, and liked it.

 

ow.
I'll be better in the morning.

Dance class was amazing. Again.
I want to take friends with me but simultaneously I want to keep it all to myself...
Dichotomy.
It's really, truly, amazing. Being there is like dancing your prayers to God. And it's explicit permission to:

a) Take Up Space. Which is an awesome permission to give a fat chick like me
and
b) Move However You Want To. Which is awesome permission to give a dancer like me who's been doing ballroom and other frame-partner dances for a really long time.

I feel deliciously loose. Which is nice after a mellow day of baby wrangling and a mellow weekend wherein I got to enjoy significant hanging out with all the boys I have a romantic interest in. (the girls, are another matter entirely. Sigh.)

But I really do get to Take Up Space and Move However I Want To. And it's phenomenally liberating.

I was remembering certain Persons saying "oh I don't dance" and remembering why my friend Forest always got lots and lots of girlfriends: basically, whoever he wanted, would sleep with him. And I believe that's because of the truism about dancers: "How you dance is how you fuck."

=)

I dance with my whole body, my whole heart, and a lot of creativity.
Take that as you will... *grin*

edit: it strikes me that the converse of my silly truism above is likely also true: that if you fuck with style, grace, or authentic enthusiasm, you would probably be able to dance well, also.

For me it is all about are you actually INHABITING the body and using its capacities in your communications with others; and the most intimate connections, for me, are in dance and in sensual pleasures.

Yoga kicked my ass in a good way today (Tuesday though I'm posting after midnight), and helped me stretch out some of the delicious soreness from dancing for THREE HOURS yesterday. I win. And I feel really flexible, and my foot doesn't hurt

Body's still sore though.

I love my gym.

Dinner helps everything be better.
Steak, tater tots, a lovely Zinfandel, some blueberries, should all help with my recent case of anemia.

Made it to the gym tonight!
Not a super long session, but I did some cardio, some weights (I have to eat greens and fruit only before next session, I ate buttered rice with cheese and herbs and got a very acid stomach) and finished up with light stretching.

Been over a week since my last gym visit, and the bod has been complaining about the lack. Got turned on to the chance of a blues dance event not far from here, every Thursday. I've never done blues dancing before, though I've watched others dance ( thinking of tshuma and dougygyro at Lark camp, and it's lovely, flirtacious, and sensual. Should be great, though taxing on thigh muscles.

Gotta date tomorrow. Really looking forward to it.

More dating, more dancing. Life is good.

Twilight Time, Megan says this is "my song" and I should kill next time I get the chance to sing it with the band...

A Fine Romance

Sugar Moon (the song I sang with Heidi Zegri at the Swing Dance) (I think we did a better job than these guys)

There Will Never Be Another You (awesomesauce)

What'll I do? with an intro my sheet music did not have

Look for the Silver Lining with Chet Baker on trumpet, and singing, separate links

L-O-V-E (which Megan was trying to sing with me and I didn't realize it *facepalm* that woulda RAWKED)

Istanbul (Not Constantinople), like The Four Lads, not like TMBG)

I was a Little Too Lonely (and you were a little too late)

This can't be love (which I want to learn a lot better)

Sentimental Journey (which I don't seem to have the sheet music for anyway)

Surrey with the Fringe on Top (which I didn't like until Yael sultried it up a LOT, then it was WIN)

Tuxedo Junction (which the five 'tweens rocked the HELL out of at the Swing Dance)

My Shining Hour (I didn't really like this one)



Next stage: Youtube links... Hope you like!

In other life news, today finishes the second full week of the summer Waldorf teacher credentialling session.
I am STARVING. I am always starving when I come home after classes. AND I eat like a pig at snack (11:00) and at lunch (1:00) ... but I'm not changing shape at all, unless i'm gaining a little bit of muscle ... I suppose it helps that we are dancing for an hour every morning, and doing sculpture in the afternoon, and I'm THINKING like a hard-working thinking-thing the rest of the day (my Creative Writing teacher and Program Director, Dorit would have FITS about that description, not to mention all my parenthetical habits and multiple-adjective descriptors, hee!)

Other teachers and students refer to the work we are doing as spiritual work. And that it's HARD work I do not deny, nor do I deny its spiritual nature. But spiritual work burning this many calories, is just something I have to make an effort to wrap my head around.

Snack and lunch are incredibly tasty affairs at summer session. Today the snack table had berry scones, a variety of bagels, cream cheese, corn bread with honey butter to spread on it, melons and berries in an attractive display, hummus and sliced peppers and cucumbers and tzatziki... plus very tasty coffee with honey, brown sugar, whole milk and half-n-half, and a variety of teas, both caf. and decaf.

Lunch has been fresh, organic, and varied, and incredibly tasty as well.

I love my sculpture class. Ken Smith is also our Art History teacher, and he's built like a short balding blacksmith, with a gentle New Zealand accent and a puckish sense of humor. Really devoted to his subject, and very heart centered. Unfailingly polite and helpful, even when our class is feeling our oats and we start to talk over him. I thought sculpture would be kind of scary, you know, new means of expression, but he's so approachable, it's very easy to ask questions and get help.

I love my eurythmy (dance) class. Glenda was born in South Africa, has lived and worked all over the world so she has this intriguing mixy accent, and she's SO graceful and warm and welcoming and sweetly funny. I told her today what an amazing "stage ninja" she was, backstage (behind a simple curtain) at the first Wednesday night performance... she was unnoticeable, and I was LOOKING, and on top of that, managed to change costume back there, utterly unobtrusively... the way she walks is amazing, the variety of movement styles, accents she flows between, the real gentility of her manner... wow. I will be sad when I no longer get to work with her every day. I will really miss her. And I love the range of movement she has us doing, and doing beautifully, in class. She is unstinting with praise and warm eye contact, and I love that about her also.

I love my Language Arts class. Roberta is an experienced Waldorf teacher, having ushered two classes through from first to eighth grade, and now teaches teachers and, I believe, works part time in another Waldorf school with students having reading difficulty. She's profoundly deaf and relies on hearing aids, which gives her speaking voice a kind of metallic, flat affect, but her enthusiasm and encyclopedic memory for verse, rhyme, game, and story makes her a real force to be reckoned with. I hope my mind is as sharp and my will as enthusiastic by the time I'm her age (which I don't know, but she's got white white hair and an 8 year old granddaughter, so...)

I am having a time of it in the creative writing class. *wry*
Dorit, I am discovering through the grapevine, lacks certain social skills like tact and communicating the parameters of an assignment. She knows her subject, that's for sure, but when her way of telling you how she wants you to write an assignment consists of saying, write three sentences using these subjects, and then proceeds to just rip every body's work in front of the class? Hm. So she's letting everyone make their natural mistakes first, then bringing examples to the class for correction and suggestions... which is not too bad, everyone can give suggestions for improvement... kinda makes her the bad guy, but she's almost gleeful about it (funny, for a melancholic personality!) so yeah. She's maybe harsh but I don't see anyone crying on the way out of the room so it's probably all right.

And honestly? if anyone can break me of the remains of my codependent habit of trying to please authority figures? It'll be Dorit. Nothing I do seems to please her, I seem to irritate her somehow (no, really I have evidence) and tbh she's starting to irritate me also, though I'm trying to be compassionate about it. I'll work to stop trying to make her notice me and just pay attention to doing the work properly. And I have to admit I haven't given it as much thought as I have the other classes, cos hey, I can write already! I am a Writer. </ poncy pretension> heh. I need to give those assignments decent focus and not dash something off as I have been doing. I need to go ahead and draft something, work on the draft and change and experiment and fix things... I need to really friggin' WRITE, and do myself proud.

Lots of progress being made now. This is the halfway point, I can't believe we're already half-over, it's gone by swift as the wind over the El Sobrante hillsides...

I. Am. Loving. It.