Eclectic Waters

I find it hard to read novels slowly.  My mind tells me to read with care, paying attention to the writer’s craft to hone my own writing skills, but within two or three sentences, I find myself rushing along – delving into the characters world – and being swept up in the story.  What’s going to happen next…  What are they thinking… Who are they… How will they react…

My eyes began the journey of this story on Wednesday of last week, and today I crossed the finish line.  This is the second of Lisa See’s books that I’ve read.  The first being Shanghai Girls, which left me wanting to read more of her writing.

Snow Flower and the Secret Fan revolves around the friendship between Snow Flower and Lily which begins with a contract of friendship when they are ten.  Their friendship spans the time of their foot-binding, marriages and child bearing years.  It was deep, beautiful and moving and although I finished the book earlier today, images and words from its pages continue to float through my mind – stirring my emotions and causing me to reflect on the life of the characters and my own life.

I attended a writing workshop on Saturday.

It caused all kinds of thoughts and feelings to flood my being.

I’m still processing…

6 months ago today, at 7 p.m I walked into a coffee shop and met Jonathan Welsh for the first time.

Little did I know, walking into the coffee shop, that I would fall in love.

He is a gift to me and each day I love him more.

I return to the book as though its pages were doors and the words doorknobs. My eyes gently open them and I enter streets and rooms, encountering people, thoughts and places I have never seen before. I wander through, observing, becoming part of an unreal world: thinking their thoughts, seeing what they allow me to, feeling their emotions.

Each book a map, a story laid out with streets and buildings of its own.  I traverse the page, straining to see all I can.  Like a greedy tourist, I want to ‘know’ and ‘experience’ this place, although there are only 288 pages to do so.

Mostly I love salsa and the other latina dances (bachata,cumbia etc.) because the pictures in my mind become quiet and I am caught in the moment.

Suspended.

Awake, every fiber of my being expands and stretches to embrace the sound and movement of each beat. Quick Quick Slow. Quick Quick Slow. One Two Three, Hold Four.  Five, Six, Seven, Hold Eight…

Fluidity and swaying stop as we pause. The pause is brushed aside as we merge into the music.

Dance is the combination of these.  Stop. Move. Sway. Swirl. Hold. Spin. Flick. Sway. Move.

The swoosh of my skirt and the flick of my hair and heels as I spin.

My hands, resting in his, aware of each gentle but firm movement, leading me in and out of spins, leading me across the wooden floor. I am focused on following the ques and rhythm of my partner.  Each male dancer has his own style, not just how he dances, but how he leads.  They are like foreign islands and when I walk onto the dance floor, I become like an explorer acutely aware of each sound and movement.  I match myself to them.  This is what dancing is about.  The connection.  The tension between our hands and the distance between our bodies has to remain in tact and my only role is to follow if we are to dance and embody the music surrounding us.

I forget the rest of the dance floor.  I forget my day or who I have come with.

My focal point is the music, my body’s movement and that of my partner.  My mind is singularly focused on putting my heart and soul into the dance.

Living in the corridors of my mind during most of the day, dancing allows me to run outside, forget about the halls and rooms of my mind and simply be.  Outside.  Twirling.  Moving.  Aware only of the physical sensations of moving, dancing and being.  Free.

I feel solid, strong, and beautiful; I am connected not just to my partner but to life and the awareness that I am alive.

I become a medium, like a painter’s brush or hand, attempting to capture and embody the sound filling me.  It comes in my ears and fills me from the inside out, fueling my dancing.

Dancing has restraint.  The music contains soul, longing, & desire.  I am not wild.  Instead each movement is held and executed intentionally, with laser like focus on the movement and an awareness of myself, the medium, as it is executed.

Dancing is learning.  I move and dance towards greater skill and perfection of the art.  When my soul feels breathless when leaving the dance floor it is because my partner took me and my dancing to a new level, or because we were able to enter into the flow of the music and I was momentarily lost and encompassed by in it.

For me, dancing points me towards how I want to live:

Alive. Free. Trusting. Connected. Beautiful in movement & grace.  Twirling.  Every cell awake & alive. Confidence.

Dancing through each experience and moment. Finding the rhythm, song & movement of each day.

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My friend Kate has long been my salsa dancing friend.  We learned salsa together and for the last three years have been regulars at the salsa scene.  You can check out her thoughts on salsa by clicking here.