I was back on the dance floor last night after a two week hiatus. The first week was because of a class cancellation and the second was because of my recent bout of exhaustion. After about two weeks of inactivity, I forced myself to start the process of re-aligning myself with my body. It was time to get out of the fetal position and kick up the dust I’ve been accumulating nestled on my couch.
In my post, A History of Movement, I talked about the difficulties in managing my on and off again relationship with physical activity. Once again, I found myself derailed by overwhelming fatigue and loss of appetite. I couldn’t rationalize going to the gym to burn off the small amount of calories I was able to digest that day. With my appetite recently returned, my body is crying out for order, for balance, for the sweat to start flowing on a regular basis. I feel weighed down by the layers of tiredness I’ve carried around with me for the last two weeks. I hit the gym tomorrow, but tonight I’ve put on my favourite dance tunes for some spastic, improvised dancing in my apartment.
Not only am I weighed down by the crusty remnants of ongoing fatigue, I feel like it’s been forever since my body has expressed “joy.” That sounds pretty nutty, but I think it’s important to let your body “smile,” to let it go crazy and impulsive once in a while – hence, the spastic apartment dancing. At dance class, I’ll admit that I am spastic there, too, but I’m also trying to follow someone’s instructions. Sometimes, it’s important to move without thinking. So, I guess you could say this is my version of meditation tonight, to close my blinds and clear my mind with the random flailing of my arms and legs.
We all need more joy in our lives and in our bodies… so, why not create some for ourselves?