Rain? It's late January in northwestern Wisconsin. As usual, we're thoroughly covered and caked in snow and this rain--as soon as it freezes--will add a layer of icing that covers everything in its slippery smooth glaze. (Hmmm. I'm unsure how I'll get down--or up--my quarter-mile driveway once the temperature dips slightly....)
What would the world be, once bereftI play one of Marina Raye's CDs as I write my blog. I want to revisit the feel of the season: "Snow Falling on Silence," "Delicious Silence," and "Deep Peace" (the names for several of her selections on this compilation of native flute and Paraguayan harp). I have to admit, though, that rain sounding on our metal roof provides a wonderful tempo for this morning's practice. It soothes and slows me as I move gracefully from Rocking Motion to Bird and on.
Of wet and of wildness? Let them be left,
O let them be left, wildness and wet,
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.
Gerard Manley Hopkins
From: Earth Prayers, p. 154
Today I pay attention to how my back leg straightens as I shift weight forward. Then, again, to how and when my back knee softens, facilitating weight flow backward. I watch the reflection of my long underwear-covered leg as it straightens and bends, straightens and bends.
There's a certain comfort in this on-going examination of the form. It is never perfect. But it offers me opportunities to pay attention ... make improvements. It requires of me that I simply feel what my body feels as it shifts and moves, rocks and dips, rises and sinks....
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