Attitude Adjustment

I asked a group of kindergarten students what they were thankful for and one child said, "skunks."

This is why I love working with children so much. They are full of wonder and appreciation for things that we older folks just take for granted.

But skunks?

"They are so fascinating, " he explained.

I have adopted a daily practice of exchanging lists of things for which I am grateful with my gratitude buddy. Initially, it was difficult to think of things that really rang true. It is easy to say the right thing- I am grateful for my family, my health, etc... We know what we should be grateful for, right?

Smiles
Rainbows
Kittens
Roses

Roses, for which I need to take the time to smell right? Can you smell my sarcasm here?

But, it didn't take long for me to shed my skepticism and my gratitude list soon began flowing on its own accord. I now wake up to a blast of gratitude and can't wait to write my list. It is difficult to stop at just three.

Who knew that I was so blessed? So lucky? And like a gift from the Wizard of Oz I realize- I have been blessed all along. If ever there was a recipe for contentment, this is it. So get yourself a buddy, or a journal and start letting your gratitude flow.

"Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today and creates a vision for tomorrow." -Melody Beattie

Wishing you balance,

Nancy

On Gratitude

This year, I had a nontraditional Thanksgiving dinner. My sister and I enjoyed a lovely meal at a Latin-Indian fusion restaurant. When people asked me about my Thanksgiving plans, I would joke, "Non-traditional. We are eating in a restaurant. I'm not even giving thanks."

That couldn't be farther from the truth, however. This year, I have decided to make gratitude a practice, one that expands well beyond the Thanksgiving table, traditional or not. Inspired by a dharma talk that Tara Brach recently gave on gratitude, I immediately asked a friend if she would be my gratitude buddy. In her talk, Tara had suggested this idea, saying that if you make an agreement to send a daily note to someone listing three things for which you are grateful, you will not only put into place a daily ritual of giving thanks, but you can look forward to getting one positive e-mail a day. In our case, we have opted to send text messages: just simple lists of what we are feeling the most thankful for in a given day, every day, for a month.

My plan is to keep this up for a year with the hope of inviting someone new to join me each month. What motivates me is my curiosity; I wish to see what giving conscience attention to engendering gratitude will foster.

My friend and I have been sending messages for a week now and I already have a lot to report. Many posts worth I am sure. And for that, I am grateful. This has not been a trivial project.

Wishing you balance,

Nancy

P.S. Speaking of gratitude, take time to visit the Express Your Gratitude site and nominate a loved one for a massage giveaway this holiday season. (Rochester, NY massage therapists, including Body In Balance have donated free bodywork sessions for the lucky recipients. You can even request a specific LMT. If you are a reader from afar, visit anyway, the sentiments expressed are very moving.)

Slow Travel

I wrote the following while I was on my way to my sister's for the Thanksgiving holiday.



I write this from a train car headed to my Thanksgiving destination. I am headed there slowly. And I am ok with that.



Don't get me wrong. I am very excited about the prospect of high speed rail. But right now I am on a low speed rail, made slower by a freight train derailment that delayed the arrival of this train by over 6 hours, but for me those hours were found time spent at home, not endless hours trapped in a train car, as was the fate of the passengers around me who boarded the train earlier from points west.



Now, I sit by the window, the jostling of the train moving along these old tracks lulls me to sleep. When I wake, I read some, write some, grade some papers, listen to music and at times just sit and think.



I like this pace.



I get nervous on airplanes. I still fly, but when I took my first train trip I realized that when the train began to roll it did simply that; it gently rolled. Absent was the fear in the pit of my stomach that begins as soon as the airplane engines roar to life, a fear the accelerates at the same pace as the speed of the plane as it prepares to lift off.




Someone just inquired and it seems that we have three hours left until we arrive. "Just three hours!" she said. Piece of cake.




Sometimes you are forced to slow down and if you don't fight it, it can be quite delicious. It can be just what you need.




Wishing you balance,



Nancy

What If?

This weekend I happily attended another Trance Dance Yoga session, led by Teresa Principe at Physikos in Village Gate. For more information visit the Physikos website. To save you from the reams of writing I could do on the healing power of dance, I condensed my thoughts into the following poem. Enjoy.

What If?


What if you held yourself and whispered:

It will get better,

And what if you chose to believe your whisperings?


What if you let go of that hot coal you grasp so tightly,

and you spoke the words:

Forgiven, Forgiven,

and what if you really meant them?


And what if you danced?

What if you danced wildly until
all that mattered was the dripping sweat,
the beating heart, the ripples of life
moving your bones, enlivening your flesh?

Wouldn't that be something sweet indeed?




Wishing You Balance,

Nancy

Cast All Your Votes For Dancing

I wanted to share this poem that showed up on my Facebook feed. It is by Hafiz, whose given name was Shams-ud-din Muhammad (c. 1320-1389), said to be the most beloved poet of the Persians. This poem was translated by into English by Daniel Kandinsky.

Cast All Your Votes For Dancing

I know the voice of depression

Still calls to you.

I know those habits that can ruin your life

Still send their invitations.

But you are with the Friend now

And look so much stronger.

You can stay that way

And even bloom!

Keep squeezing drops of the Sun

From your prayers and work and music

And from your companions' beautiful laughter.

Keep squeezing drops of the Sun

From the sacred hands and glance of your Beloved

And, my dear,

From the most insignificant movements

Of your own holy body.

Learn to recognize the counterfeit coins

That may buy you just a moment of pleasure,

But then drag you for days

Like a broken man

Behind a farting camel.

You are with the Friend now.

Learn what actions of yours delight Him,

What actions of yours bring freedom

And Love.

Whenever you say God's name, dear pilgrim,

My ears wish my head was missing

So they could finally kiss each other

And applaud all your nourishing wisdom!

O keep squeezing drops of the Sun

From your prayers and work and music

And from your companions' beautiful laughter

And from the most insignificant movements

Of your own holy body.

Now, sweet one,

Be wise.

Cast all your votes for Dancing!

Republished from: Hafiz Unofficial FB Fan Page

Wishing You Balance,

Nancy

On Teaching Dance

Twelve children balancing peacock feathers on their hands, moving in concert with their graceful partners. They excitedly call my name, inviting me to share in their amazement, their discovery of a great accomplishment, of what, until that moment, they didn't even know to be possible.

It is magic.

I am the dance specialist in an elementary school.

Do I teach children how to dance?

No.

It isn't about the moves, the balance, the point of the toe, the positioning of the body, the beat or any of those things we tend to think of when we think of dance, even though those are all things I teach.

What is it then?

I have spent my life trying to answer the question, "What is dance?" And maybe the problem is the way in which that question is expected to be answered.

Words.

I can't answer it with words.

The answer to that question is in the body's domain.

And when the children that I teach feel the answer in their own bodies, the magic in the room is palpable.

One student says, "I am dancing with the feather. We are partners! I look at it and it shows me how to move." This expressed both with excitement and with a seriousness that conveys the profundity of her discovery. This dance is a big deal.

I was recently at a conference and when I told a fellow conferee that I worked with young children teaching dance, she cheered. She told me, without the benefit of ever seeing me teach, or meeting the children, that what I did was important. That it made a difference in their lives.

I can see that it does, sometimes more clearly than other times.



What is dance?


Let your body answer that question.


Dance.




Wishing you balance,

Nance

Letters of Love

This week I have been reading a wonderful batch of letters that my college students wrote. The letters weren’t addressed to me, but I have had the honor of reading them. The letters were written for their feet.

You read that right. Their feet.

I would classify the letters as those of the love variety. Feet, after all, are marvelous. The students expressed such gratitude for the steps they have taken throughout their lives, steps in the most literal sense of the word. My students admitted neglecting their feet, shoving them in ill-fitting shoes, failing to rest them when they were in pain, etc. One student said that perhaps it was because her feet were so far away and hard to reach that she rarely paid attention to them. Feet are marvelous, but easy to take for granted.

In class, we spent some time learning about the anatomy of the foot and the students were given the assignment to massage their feet three times during the week and then of course there was the written assignment. After reading their delightful letters, I decided to write my own.

Dear Feet,

You have never been pretty. In fact, you have always been wrinkly, even when I was a child. Like my hands, you look like you belong to someone who is 20 years older. Plus, you develop these tremendous cracks, especially in the wintertime. Now might be a good time to mention that they hurt. Sometimes a lot.

When I was younger I would have dreams. Similar in flavor to those nightmares that many people have when they appear naked in a public place; in these dreams I would suddenly realize that you, my feet, are bare when they shouldn’t be. Like, I am in a court of law or in a bank or some place where it would be inappropriate for you to be bare. Ironically, in my professional life, I rarely enclose you in shoes. When I teach my dance classes you are free to touch the floor, to articulate, to let your toes wiggle. When I give a massage, you also get to feel the connection to the floor without those middlemen, the shoes, getting in the way.

Admittedly, you are aesthetically challenged. But I have never let that get in my way. I am used to people saying “ouch” in sympathy when they look at the cracks on your heels. Despite the pain that you cause me, I appreciate you because you get me where I want to go. We have gone many places together and there are many more places in our future. But my favorite part of our relationship is the dancing. I can’t thank you enough for that.

I know that you are made up of scores of bones: tarsals, metatarsals and phalanges, but I experience you often as just one big unit. After standing on a tennis ball or getting you massaged, I am always amazed to discover how supple you can be. It is truly a marvelous feeling. I promise to do that more.

There is so much for which to thank you. You let me feel the ground beneath me, which is no small thing. It is through you and your constant connection with the earth that I find balance.

Love,

Nancy