I'm retreating.
There are too many people around and I'm not used to the energy. The draw to the chairs outside is great - just sit outside and look at the sea, Pandora. Go talk to the cows.
"Morning..."
Talking to the cows is a great way to start the day. There isn't a monastery cat to talk to. It would have been great to talk to the monastery cat. I miss my cat.
Writing poetry is our next task.
So here we go.
Dancing in the Chapel
There is the stretch,
The reach,
The grind and bump.
The releasing of tension as a skyward hand
Grasps the great unknown above
As the rhythms overtake the hips,
Lengthen the sides
And jolt the pelvis this way and that.
Legs akimbo,
Bare feet rooted to the floor
The push and pull of the music
Encases the world.
There is no order in this chaos.
No guilt or shame
No blame or consequence
In the unrelenting, unforgiving beat.
A repurposed hall,
Bathed in autumnal half light.
A celebration of things to come,
A connection to an unseen life
Free from the orthodox rigmarole
Of former days.
Dance early
Dance hard
Dance to forgive
Dance to forget
Dance to remember
Dance to release
For we rarely give ourselves this time.
My latest discovery for the day is that there is nothing better in the world than fresh scones and cream. Okay, I'm not sure that the cream didn't come out of a can, but the scones were warm, fresh and pillow soft and I had three. Because I can. And despite the fact I've done little exercise today (other than dancing in the chapel at daybreak) I'm really hungry. Maybe it's the sea air. Maybe it's the company.
Maybe, for the first time in an eternity, I feel like I'm allowed to be me for a bit.
Today's Song:
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