We chased the sun across the continent, but it still beat us to the pacific coast. Now it’s 6 am (PST) and my body thinks we should stop lazing around in bed and start this day already. Body, most of the time you are the smartest most truest part of me, which is why I think I owe it to you to tell you: you actually have no idea what time it is.
It’s a funny thing to land in a new place at night. On the Bart, I felt like I was being shuttled through a mystery, like the universe was saying “close your eyes. this will all make more sense in the morning.”
It’s a funny thing to jump into a brand new contact jam when you’ve spent all day sitting in an upright seat with 6 inches of leg room and a tiny window from which to gaze down at the world. There’s the world, all the way down there, tiny and perfect and open. Now go get it.
Last night I hopped off the plane, hopped the Bart to Berkeley, wrestled my (75 lb!) case up a flight of steps to Stephanie’s apartment, grabbed dance clothes and headed to the Berkeley jam.
Hit the ground dancing.
I’ve decided to treat this trip like one long contact jam. Accordingly, I’m assigning certain rules to this score:
– Notice my thoughts
– Be in the present moment as much as possible.
– Notice if and when I develop an agenda, and throw it out immediately.
– Accept my needs/wants/desires as part of the dance. Set intentions to have these needs/wants/desires fulfilled but be careful to not let my intentions transform into agendas.*
– Laugh and delight in all the magic and synchronicity that unfolds.
*With intentions, I can invite the universe (or my dance partner) to co-pilot the dance with me. Agendas assume I know something I don’t.
Other suggestions/additions to this score are welcome…
february 1, 2013