You do Tai Chi. It is good. You connect to Heaven & Earth. Your legs are strong, your breath is even. But you know you need more. The body knows. There are glitches, muscle spasms, limps, gimps and annoyances.
The cautionary mind says, take it easy, get some rest.
Your alive, don’t forget you were once 16 and could do it all mind says, go for it.
You don’t know what it is. It’s something just beyond that spinal glitch that freezes the body when you push open the sliding glass door. That little, necessary, every day action of leaning against the door to let the dogs out. You wince. Wait for it to pass. And then you forget about it because you’re busy.
Finally you acknowledge the limitation, you go to the doc who recommends pool therapy but you know more about your body than the PT. You like the water but the routine never fits into your schedule.
Synchronicity happens. You hear from a long time friend who is belly dancing in Oregon. You hear from one of your first belly dancing teachers. You order zils. It will help your hands. But you keep thinking about lateral movement and that door glitch. You need more than finger symbols. You do a search: belly dance Bellingham. You find Maggie Rose. You sign up, fearful that your body will not be able to follow along or do the moves it found so easy 35 years ago.
You go. Amidst a bevy of young women, you see all your flaws in the endless wall to wall mirror. You dance because that’s where the muscles rejoice. You dance because you love the music. You dance because you can.
And later you soak in epsom salts and take a muscle relaxer because you really have over extended yourself in joy. You manage to avoid a charley horse or two by slathering on Traumeel before you climb into bed for a good night’s sleep despite the full moon. And you wake up without pain.
You are healing. You are playing. It is good.