It is the second day of June 2020.

I can hardly believe it.

We are in some ways much stilled at the moment, yet my perception is that time is passing just as quickly as ever.

These quieter days are full. Just as full. If differently so. More quietly so.

A few months ago we had planned for me to lead a class for Groundwork Pro tomorrow, Wednesday 3rd of June.

That was following a storyline different to the one we ended up navigating.

In that other storyline, I would tonight have been thinking about what I might bring to class tomorrow, pondering what we might do together for the space of an hour and half.

Perhaps we might have begun by walking the room as I often suggest we do. And opening the senses… hearing… feeling the air, the floor under foot, the brush of our clothes on the skin. And seeing anew…And being attentive to the dance of our walk…

Or perhaps we might have found a stillness first of all, and tuned into the movement inside of us, let ourselves fall into all the different structures that support us: the ground, the bones, the breath, others, space around us…

We might have placed one hand on the top of the head and the lower back… and noticed the easy stacking of the vertebrae… And filled that space between the points of touch with breath… and noticed the movement of the breath…and undone any unecessary tension in our standing up… and I might have invited us to explore moving the spine between the hands – one on the top of the head and the other on the lower back –  reminding ourselves, as we move, of its possibilities, of its three-dimensionality… and opening spaces, folding and unfolding… perhaps losing the contact through the hands as we continue, when and if we feel like it…moving the spine, from the spine, in the room we are in… and letting one movement guide us to the next, letting whatever arises be, and transform, and become whatever it wants to be from moment to moment… following our first thought, impulse, need…. borrowing from what we see, borrowing from one another… getting lost in our dancing… lost yet supported and always in relation… maybe coming back to our spines when needing an anchor… or to the ground, to our contact to the ground… dancing gargantuan and hardly visible dances, gentle and furious dances, curious and searching dances…

I miss sharing space and moving with you all.

I wonder if you might find anything in the words above to support or inspire a dance today. Or another day.

Maybe you won’t, but the possibility alone that you and I might connect in this way – intangible yet very real – is a great comfort to me.

Go well everyone.

Laila

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