Remembering
#2093
Last weekend, I joined a workshop all about movement. Dancing.
The first impact was shocking. Nobody was talking; they were all just dancing freely. I felt like a stranger who didn’t know the language. Once it became clear that no one would explain what to do, the only option was to step in.
At first, my mind was constantly trying to understand and control every gesture. But then, the music, the movement, the aching in the muscles did something strange. My body took over. The internal chatter faded.
I wasn’t learning anything; I was remembering.
As if I’d always known and just forgotten how to move, jump, run, slide. My body didn’t need a vocabulary; it already possessed the rhythm of water and the physics of gravity.
With words, I can play. I can hide. Through the body, I feel exposed.
Maybe that’s exactly why I should listen to it more.