Posts Tagged ‘dance’

On my way to dance class today, I told myself that I will be good at dance class today instead of my usual uncoordinated and distracted crap that I bring to dance class week after week in spite of the fact that I really should be quite good at this through effluxion of time, if anything at all.

After 2 hours, hey, what do you know, I was actually really good…well, better than on most days! I let my hair down, twirled in all the correct directions, frame my arms semi-competently and really enjoyed myself. The last time I had this much fun in dance class was in Egypt (being the place I went alone when I gave up on most of humanity and decided that I don’t really give a damn about most things)!! I returned to work after lunch greatly rejuvenated and ready to take on the world, much to the delight of my support staff and all around.

So I have come to the conclusion that to dance competently, I just need to pretend that I am dancing for my kids, who don’t really care how coordinated I am or how I frame my body with my hands or which direction I spin. They just care that I am out of my seat and on my feet and dancing, dancing, twirling, twirling with them all over the living room.

And then, it will all come naturally.


I’m a bit late this year due to all kinds of circumstances and events (namely all kinds of ailments and injuries(!) plus the fact that I am back on my crazy two-contested-hearings-a-week schedule), but Happy Happy Year of the Water Dragon from us:

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While leaving work today, a sampler vial of perfume I had in my makeup pouch spilled, resulting in wisps of a flowery scent wafting out of my handbag while I attempted to fish my security pass out.

I stood in the lift alone, looking over my shoulder, taking in the scent which was both familiar, yet alien at the same time, trying to seperate the different notes and trying to retrieve that stray memory it had surfaced in my mind.

And then I remembered: A large room with walls covered by shelves of bottles of different hues of amber, a small glass of mint leaves soaked in hot tea, smoke from a shisha, my uncomfortable perch on a woven chair.

This was the smell of that perfume shop from that magic day walking around the white hot sand of Saqqara.

The lift door opened. I stepped out, noticing for the first time my dance gear in a holdall dangling from the crook of my left arm from dance class at lunch today.

I hummed that Arabic pop song and walked on, in that cloud of mystery scent, towards home.

If you look closely enough, you’ll find that life is largely magic.

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