"There is nothing like heading out into the forest for a run at the end of the day." I've heard these words from so many people, and I've said them myself. You head out into the woods where it's quiet, except for the rustling of the trees and the rushing of the water through the creeks and rivers. There seems to be a blanket of calm all around you... and you run.
Your breath full in your lungs, your joints finding their way through the kinks of the day until they feel fluid and lubricated. You feel your muscles working hard as you hit the uphills, running free on the downhills. You hit your stride and with it comes a kind of peace. Your body, your heart, your mind and your environment. You push yourself, just enough. For this moment, there is nothing else. Just you. Moving. Breathing. Being. Now.
"When I don't dance, the rest of my life just doesn't work as well." This one's mine, although I'm sure I share it with countless others. You head into the studio... spend some time just feeling your body as you warm up. What are the possibilities for today? You coax the body into movement, encouraging the more reluctant bits to join in. Gradually, the body comes to life from the inside out. You move through class, bringing all the pieces into cooperation with each other until it seems possible to fly. You move with the other dancers in the room, all of you breathing, sweating, reaching for more. The incomparable ecstasy of a really deep stretch, the exhilaration of a new lift and the strange sensation of moving in contact with someone you haven't danced with before... that foreign intimacy that is at once delicious and terrifying.
You dance. And whether it's a good day or a not so good one, you are there, doing your thing. You can pour your heart and soul into that dance, feeding it with everything you've got. You lose yourself in the movement ... no past, no future just that moment of expression. And come out feeling transformed.
Your breath full in your lungs, your joints finding their way through the kinks of the day until they feel fluid and lubricated. You feel your muscles working hard as you hit the uphills, running free on the downhills. You hit your stride and with it comes a kind of peace. Your body, your heart, your mind and your environment. You push yourself, just enough. For this moment, there is nothing else. Just you. Moving. Breathing. Being. Now.
"When I don't dance, the rest of my life just doesn't work as well." This one's mine, although I'm sure I share it with countless others. You head into the studio... spend some time just feeling your body as you warm up. What are the possibilities for today? You coax the body into movement, encouraging the more reluctant bits to join in. Gradually, the body comes to life from the inside out. You move through class, bringing all the pieces into cooperation with each other until it seems possible to fly. You move with the other dancers in the room, all of you breathing, sweating, reaching for more. The incomparable ecstasy of a really deep stretch, the exhilaration of a new lift and the strange sensation of moving in contact with someone you haven't danced with before... that foreign intimacy that is at once delicious and terrifying.
You dance. And whether it's a good day or a not so good one, you are there, doing your thing. You can pour your heart and soul into that dance, feeding it with everything you've got. You lose yourself in the movement ... no past, no future just that moment of expression. And come out feeling transformed.
Pure, focussed, physical intensity. Invested with every ounce of heart and spirit. Whether you're dancing, running, skiing, riding... it doesn't matter. When you're really moving, there is no time for trivialities - your movement demands your undivided attention. Right. Now. The air you breathe takes on a whole new priority. You notice every sensation, and you relate to your world in a different way than you do the rest of the time. And, for that moment, nothing is more important. Moving, breathing, living. Now.
I don't know about you... but THAT is why I move.
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