Dance of Space

Leaving the room I notice a sense of space, lots of Space. Wandering aimlessly allows for the spaciousness to be taken in fully and played with. I'm drawn to the cul dp sac of green, nature beckoning to me, "Come, Come play!" I move slowly, brushing up against Space, like my husbands arm brushes up against me in bed. There is an unnamable yet palpable intimacy. There is no against in the brushing up. it feels more like a brushing through, or being basted with the openness of space, like the basting of a turkey in its own juices. Such delight in moving foot in front of foot, arms swinging gently marinating in the relationship, this new relationship with Space. 

A movement just ahead catches my eye; a squirrel sits up on his hind legs standing tall, his hands meeting in front of his chest, life pulsing through him, his body swaying to the beat of his heart. His head is raised, nostrils flaring, taking in the fragrance of the space we both share, the eyes are tiny black lasers of curiosity, innocently looking into me. We both stop, taking it all in via the openness of the portals of perception, the space and the forms that dance within this space equally prominent. There is a sense that as we share different perceptions we also share common ground.

“Bbbbzzzzzzzz” the honeybee purposefully advances sideways into the small cone of the flower on the bee balm. Many small yellow flowers decorate the high branches, offerings held out for the taking, as in the casting of the hand of a partner in a square dance twirling over to the next person in the circle, collecting the hand of the dancer twirling over to the next person in the circle, collecting the hand of the dancer twirling towards him. It is a circle of coming and going, giving up and receiving. The bee continues down the line of blossoms punctuating each momentary flight with a buzz followed by silence as he inserts his proboscis and collects the pollen.

Aimlessly following the lead of my partner in play, Space, I see the mogul pine waving it’s branches like a cheerleader urging me on. I take its slippery needles in each hand and lean back feeling the interplay and support in its frame and mine. I toss the branches up in the airing we both fall into bow. Turning to go, I leave with a smile, the universe is playing with me, its all a dance with Space. 

SpiritMuni Fluss