We had company this afternoon - Dale's lovely folks finally came to
see us and our new house as it is seen post-move. During the visit, I
found myself energized beyond repair and this energy intensified once
the house fell quiet once again. Dale announced that he would drive
down the road to watch for picture opportunities. I bid him farewell,
declining to go with him because the LAST thing I wanted was to be
cooped up in a moving box. The house felt engulfing enough despite
its sizable girth. So instead, I decided to burn off the four
cookies, fish chowder, bread, tea, and soda I'd consumed by doing some
dancing in the house.
Well, by the time the first song had passed through a few bars, I knew
the house could not contain me any longer. For one thing, the house
is a bit old so even though it's pretty solid, it does still shake
when I jump around. For another, the sunlight was poking its fading
rays into the room, gently prodding me with promises of outside
warmth. So I quickly donned my shoes, grabbed a light jacket, and ran
outside as fast as my little legs could carry me - before the last
vestiges of energy realized that they were crazy and should be shoved
into a computer chair once again. NO!! I screamed inwardly at that
last thought; having entertained someone who'd just endured a bout of
the Shingles, I was feeling particularly lucky that I had ANY of my
bodily faculties just then. I intended to use them. All of them!! I
found myself walking - no, dancing! - up our street, the pond bright
in my mind's eye as my destination. Halfway up the hill, my energy
dwindled as I gasped for air. I felt myself rebelling against the
lethargy that was trying to set in: "NO!!! I WILL NOT GO BACK!! I
WILL MAKE IT UP THIS HILL!!! I WILL CRAWL IF I MUST!!!" I knew that
if I permitted myself the easy task of turning back, that I'd end up
in that computer chair once more, defeated, and no better for the
little expenditure I did succeed with. Besides, I was really enjoying
the music. So I resigned myself to the fact that I would simply walk
up the hill and down the other side to the pond. From there, I told
myself, I would find a catchy tune and dance where it's flat. And by
then, I surmised, my breath would have returned and I'd be primed for
the display of arms and legs once more so it would seem easier. How I
love to make a fool of myself in public!! But then, my intention was
to hide at the unpopulated end of the pond. Perhaps privacy was more
my concern this day?
At any rate, the assumptions I'd made about my air intake were
correct. My breath returned just as the perfect walking song came
on. I wasn't "there" yet and I knew it; the spiritual aspect of the
music was completely lost on me and all I could hear was some distant
emotion being sung to the clomp-clomp of carefully controlled,
syncrhonized footsteps. So I didn't bother dancing just yet.
Instead, I walked flat-footed all the way to the ducks and stood there
singing my heart out where [hopefully] no one could hear me. My
breath was significantly stronger than I'd expected. It felt good. I
tried to focus my energy upward, to feel the music, to hold in some
energy so it could be suddenly released, but it took so long to get
myself in that zone. I'm out of practice, I told myself glumly. I
should never have permitted myself to let it go so long. But... where
did those old feelings go? Where did the zest for music go? Where
was my heart and soul? How does one dance with nothing to drive it?
An inkling came moments later during "Making Love Out Of Nothing At
All" by Air Supply. "The beating of my heart is a drum, and it's
lost, and it's looking for a rhythm like you." I heard my heart
thumping along its assent. "You can take the darkness from the pit of
the night, and turn it to a beacon burning endlessly bright." My eyes
swooped upward, memories cascading through my love-encrusted brain.
Suddenly, I remembered what the music was about again. Hope. Love.
Will. "I've gotta follow it, 'cause everything I know, well it's
nothing 'til I give it to you." My heart leapt and I felt a small
twinge run down my spine. It was a tiny spark of life, but I felt
it. I was still capable of reaching that feeling again. I could
still reach down inside myself and pull out my spirituality by its
burrowing little tail. So I pulled harder and restarted the song. I
began to walk back and forth at that unpopulated end, willing myself
to become one with the Creator once again, to remember my roots, to
remember the promises only He can keep, and the promises I'd intended
to keep and then neglected. To remember who I am inside. To remember.
This time I had a conversation with myself and God. It was in that
special version of "English" - that language where, in one's mind, one
speaks in a sort of broken English laced with raw thought. As if some
part of the brain is trying to convert the thought to language for use
with other human beings and is failing miserably because it realizes
there really isn't any reason for it since there are no other humans
around. The music was drowned out by my own thoughts as I climbed
higher into my other awareness. Then I realized I'd achieved my goal
and got all excited and of course that ruined the moment so the music
pulled me back down to earth again. I restarted the song again and
began to walk back, hoping the movement would entice the feeling
back. I became aware of the auras on the trees. I saw a couple of
crows flying against the mild-mannered breeze over the pond. One
looked like it was struggling. I felt myself think, "Fight for it,
little bird. It's worth the struggle." The music continued to make
its offerings of concentration, wisdom, and emotion, fueling my own
energies and convincing them to strive for the same. I saw a few
beaver-felled trees, just young saplings, deprived of their lives. I
knew this to be necessary and figured perhaps the trees were OK with
that, since the beavers would likely return for their new housing
materials. I saw tracks in the melting snow that suggested they'd
been around recently. "Hi, little industrious beavers, wherever you
are," I thought silently, noticing another tooth-scarred tree across
the pond.
I climbed the hill and this time I did not restart the song. I didn't
quite reach the peak I'd been hoping for, but I found within myself a
stillness that I did not know existed. I felt at peace. I thanked
God for everything I have and confided that I didn't know why I feel
out of sorts at times, but it had to be because I'd been neglecting to
take this time to reflect, to truly delve into my soul and examine
everything residing there.
A new song played: "Alone," by the Bee Gees. I felt renewed and my
feet began to move faster, faster, overjoyed that they were unimpeded
by a lack of respiration. I twirled and jumped and cursed inwardly at
passing vehicles. How busy could this tiny street BE? I tried to
restrain myself: "Just a little bit, don't over do it that much or
you'll get winded again!" My body, however, knew better than I on
such matters. It knows that the reason I began dancing in the first
place was not out of concern for my health and fitness. It didn't
care that typically, people exercise upwards - not push themselves
beyond their limits right away. Years ago, it merely felt the urge
out of sheer necessity to express the overwhelmingly indefatigable
emotions that kept spilling like lava onto the exposed earth of my
mind. And now, it told me, the urge is out of sheer necessity to find
the spirituality I have hidden within myself during the everyday
motions of life. Slowly toning yourself be damned, it screamed gently
at me. Just do it! With this newfound understanding, it was with
some regret that I approached the house door. But, I knew that it was
getting colder, the sun was already going down, and the writing bug
would soon overcome my control. So I kicked off my shoes and
excitedly told Dale of my tiny, but meaningful, voyage. "I'm so
happy," I explained... happily.
"I am a spiritual being," my soul reminded me as I took a breath.
"That's who I am."
~nv
"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the
courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the
difference." ~Alcoholics Anonymous Serenity Prayer
