Tuesday, February 24, 2009
24th February 2009
I'm just home from dancing.
It was such a joyful affair, because I had my hair done today, cut in a new way, and then straightened.. and one of the many joys of my new life just now is to be able to experiment with how I look!
And everyone said such lovely things about how I look and I just loved it!
The usual dance teacher was away: and for the very first time there were two new teachers to replace her.
There was something so moving and wonderful about this. Our usual teacher, and all of us, really, have had such a struggle to get Biodanza established here in Edinburgh. We've been through some hard times together: and the presence of these two new fabulous women teachers was such a testimony, such amazing incontrovertible evidence, that all that hard work is bearing fruit.
They taught so beautifully, too: I went through the teacher training course with them and I could see how good they've become. How beautifully they demonstrated, how elegantly and profoundly they explained.
But above all else, perhaps, how delightfully they were themselves.
There was nothing forced or artificial about what they were doing: they were communicating a wisdom very deep in themselves.
I felt so good in my new haircut; and I couldn't help but remember how scared I was when I first came, still living as man, still trying to recover from the terror of my breakdown.
How different I feel now; how much more confident; how much I have become my own dear self.
I was aware of not such good things, too: how my knees have got sore, how my heart, so wounded by its illness and surgery, does not allow me to be so vigourous and lively as I would wish.
At one point I definitely did too much: and I felt a sharp pain in my chest.
These reminders of mortality do not scare me as much as they used to - and really it would not be so terrible to die dancing!
There was a kind of appropriateness to them, too: today is the anniversary of dear Susie's dying.
I thought of her then, as I think of her always, with such deep gratitude it is almost painful.
We're accustomed to say, when we think of the dead, "May they rest in peace".
But I would not wish that for Susie. She spent her life working & struggling & studying & striving to understand. Laughing & taking pleasure & loving.
And I so hope that is what she is doing now.
I'm just home from dancing.
It was such a joyful affair, because I had my hair done today, cut in a new way, and then straightened.. and one of the many joys of my new life just now is to be able to experiment with how I look!
And everyone said such lovely things about how I look and I just loved it!
The usual dance teacher was away: and for the very first time there were two new teachers to replace her.
There was something so moving and wonderful about this. Our usual teacher, and all of us, really, have had such a struggle to get Biodanza established here in Edinburgh. We've been through some hard times together: and the presence of these two new fabulous women teachers was such a testimony, such amazing incontrovertible evidence, that all that hard work is bearing fruit.
They taught so beautifully, too: I went through the teacher training course with them and I could see how good they've become. How beautifully they demonstrated, how elegantly and profoundly they explained.
But above all else, perhaps, how delightfully they were themselves.
There was nothing forced or artificial about what they were doing: they were communicating a wisdom very deep in themselves.
I felt so good in my new haircut; and I couldn't help but remember how scared I was when I first came, still living as man, still trying to recover from the terror of my breakdown.
How different I feel now; how much more confident; how much I have become my own dear self.
I was aware of not such good things, too: how my knees have got sore, how my heart, so wounded by its illness and surgery, does not allow me to be so vigourous and lively as I would wish.
At one point I definitely did too much: and I felt a sharp pain in my chest.
These reminders of mortality do not scare me as much as they used to - and really it would not be so terrible to die dancing!
There was a kind of appropriateness to them, too: today is the anniversary of dear Susie's dying.
I thought of her then, as I think of her always, with such deep gratitude it is almost painful.
We're accustomed to say, when we think of the dead, "May they rest in peace".
But I would not wish that for Susie. She spent her life working & struggling & studying & striving to understand. Laughing & taking pleasure & loving.
And I so hope that is what she is doing now.
Labels: Susie and the dancing
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