42. Standing Still

A moment. Only one.

A beat. The pulse.

Anxiety and tension.

Every time she stopped moving, the feeling of reality would settle down, making her remember: her day, life, things that had no right on the floor.

So she kept dancing. Toes pointed and legs extended as she moved around the room. The music flowed through the floor into her body, coaxing out movement. The beautiful movement that forced out the “then” and “soon” and focused on the “now.” The only thing she was willing to focus on every day were the moments she moved.

The tension of the music became thicker, weighing down on her. She was no longer dancing alone. She danced with the air around her that pulsed like a living thing, enveloping her in a warm embrace as she closed her eyes and gave into the music.

She felt pressure assert itself at the base of her calf and the bend of her back as she lifted her leg. When she released the position, flowing snakelike into a short twirl, arms upraised, the pressure moved to her hands and waist. Coming down from her toes, she was swept up by a sense of déjà vu so suddenly that she stopped moving and assumed third position.

Dizzied, she moved to sit down, eyes firmly closed so she wouldn’t fall, when the pressure that she thought she’d imagined decidedly made itself known by shifting behind her. And there, she felt another body, lean and flexible as a dancer and taut in its desire to dance. With the smallest of smiles, Bubbles accepted the offer and moved, eyes closed, body loose, and emotions soaring.

Dancing brought the emotional release that standing still never would.

In a society that worships love, freedom and beauty, dance is sacred. It is a prayer for the future, a remembrance of the past and a joyful exclamation of thanks for the present. – Danica Shardae Cobriana, Tuuli Thea of Avians, Naga of Serpents; Hawksong by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes

fin