Dance

image from Diane Sinclair & Ken Spaulding

I call out for clarity. "Let me see!" I sit and ask that I might know, the door to open, the clouds to clear, the answer revealed.

And then the whisper comes "to move." Like the chaos of creativity from which the painting of music emerges in dance.... clarity comes with movement. To see one must move. Movement begets clarity.

Falling Movement

Thich Nhat Hanh observed that we only call rain, "rain" because it is falling and wind, "wind" because it is blowing. That led my simple brain to ponder the thread, that we have names for waves, rain and wind but think how different the words can be.  At night the sound of crashing waves or rain can lull you to sleep. The same sounds terrifying to one lost at sea or in the mountains.  And to ponder, is not nature's breath, the wind, always present, but we only give it a name when it moves? Is not her life sustaining moisture always present but we only give it a name when it falls?  And are not the waves, rain and wind the same but we call them storms when we think them strong?  And when your day is planned outdoors, a "nice" day means no rain but to a farmer looking at his parched fields, a "nice" perhaps even miraculous, day would be for the rain to fall.  And finally, all the words we use have movement - rain, wind, waves, stormy.  But a day of non-movement, stillness, blue skies and calm, we simply call 'nice' yet the movement of life is still there. 

And so, I leave my simple thread, to know the buffeting storms against my heart as nothing more than movement.  Movement, without which life ceases to exist. Like the moisture in the air and natures breath, the pain is simply falling.