Dancing in a Dream

I dreamt last night that I was dancing. It was me as I am now with the body and ability of the past.

My surroundings were unclear and unimportant. All presented as in real time.

I was not watching myself. I was within my moving body, sensing the swell and rush of breath, the pressure of parts folded, and the stretch when expanding. My body, dancing, and dreaming, perceived and sensed it all.

I could feel my strength, imagine my body’s tension and release, sense my weight and rhythm. My trained muscles and healthy joints instinctively coordinated so I could make a total claim of energy, space, time. I felt it again — the rapture of abandon refined by technique.

Possessing this younger self, I bent, dove, spun, jumped, arched, pulled, collapsed, pushed and paused. not with total recklessness, but with choice and form, to decide my art.

It felt incredible—so real, so palpable, and oh so necessary.

How divine it was to be one with that again.