As days go, today felt easyish overall, and yet it was punctuated with moments of shocking and painful harshness. But, having felt a bit more rested, I was able to navigate accordingly, with only minor moments of overwhelm.
I never ceased to be amazed at the human capacity to keep moving forward. It is both lovely and terrifying…
As I was on my way to pick up our weekly Wednesday Mercado order – a dance night tradition that I don’t think we will be able to shake – I randomly put Sia on Pandora as I drove. This is unusual for me, as I usually take every free second to dive into an audiobook or podcast episode that I am inevitably in the middle of. It’s not that I don’t ever listen to music, it’s just that I usually choose not to at times like these.
I turned it up and danced – while still paying attention to driving, swear.
As I am attempting to wrap my brain around this whole radical acceptance undertaking, it’s nice to know that there are some things I don’t have to try so hard to receive or understand.
Dancing is one of them.
Dancing lives in us all. When I dance I feel close to the earth and close to other humans. And when I think about it, I dance quite frequently throughout my days – little jigs here, and little bops there, sometimes a full on booty shake anywhere – this makes me happy.
I always feel better when I dance.
So maybe that is some sort of key to this whole thing – when in doubt… dance it out? Ack! Cringy and cute – I’m keeping it.
At the end of The Sun and Her Flowers, Rupi Kaur reminds us, “…we might not hear it at times but the music is always on. it just needs to be turned louder. for as long as there is breath in our lungs – we must keep dancing.
We must.