Sunday, November 4, 2007

almost a week has gone by

without words

sometimes when I am feeling the most, or the busiest, or the wheels are turning the most in whatever way I find it hard to write. Sometimes I think I am scared to write anything in these times because it could go so many different directions. And somehow, writing can make a thing, a thought, an idea, seem more real. More definite. A commitment.

about a week ago I spent some time with an old teacher. he is one of the most amazing thinkers I have ever known and I was very lucky to get to see him. During the hour or so we spent together I felt so many lights growing inside me, lights I had forgotten about, lights I thought had gone out, they were re-ignited and spread to each other and it felt huge and powerful. we talked about empathy and how a teacher might possibly go about teaching empathy, to middle- or high-school students. or anyone for that matter. he told me about using metaphor, and we talked about the idea that a person only truly knows a thing when he knows it in his body. through and through. As a dancer this rings very true for me.

I will try to dscribe a few highlights from my week now, not by telling you what I did, or how I felt, but through metaphor. or something like it...

Moments:
sunday around midnight: I felt like a soldier in ancient days who travelled weeks with a message for a family. The message said: "The war has ended. We won! Your son is still alive. He will be with you again. Soon." ... but the family was not at the given location. There was no one there. The soldier kept travelling. Carrying the message. Where? To who?

tuesday around midnight: I felt like a balloon filled with air that has not been tied off. It is flying around a room full of giddy children who are releasing other balloons of many colors. Spinning dizzy and blowing air through rubber lips singing their puffpuff song. In unison.

halloween around 10:20 am: my favorite halloween costumes on the kids at school are worn by the kids in the "special education class." they are the most imaginative. and fantastic. no french maids there. no stupid vanity either.

friday around 11pm: I felt like a christmas tree that has been picked up from the lot by the nicest, warmest family. And they are all gathered around, drinking rummy eggnog and hot cider with real cinnamon sticks and hanging homemade ornaments and stringing popcorn and cranberries and remarking on what a good choice. what a great tree this year. they are happy and sing carols and tell stories. later, each of them checks in on the tree on their way passing through the room... does the tree have enough water? are the lights working? it has more than enough, they are...

last night around 4 am: I felt in my body sheer delight and unusual peace when I thought I was going to be swallowed by the fire. Erica accidentally turned the gas way up and when I leaned in to light the wood the flames all but enveloped me. Looked like special effects. Felt surprisingly not hot. Why peace? I had danced. Been to the ocean. Day with bestest friends. Forgotten crushes resurfacing-- you never know what you might find at a taco truck at 3 in the morning.

right now: Sundays are best served full right now. I feel so lucky for my friends and the house I am living in and the strides I am making in my soul. It almost feels like I am actually getting taller. Oh if only...

1 comment:

Katie said...

All these words sprouted from your heart are detailed and delicious and delicate, as if they will turn to dust if I bring my finger to whiddle them about.

Dark humor invades me these days (early nights in new york before the steel turns to ice?)... to the image of the glowing christmas tree: it might need to be watered, but it is dying.

LOVE YOU! your ulimate fan and cousin, Katie