I am off to Houston tomorrow for Helen Terry’s Blue Storm Celebration weekend. Lots of Nia, 3 days non-stop.  I am psyched!

This morning I taught my last class before flying. Whenever I travel the last class before flying has a certain poignancy to it. Not that I don’t like flying, or fear it, really. But there is this thing about the plane taking off and into the air, and when we are up there, I am always in awe and then there’s the take off and the landing.  I will be flying over to Cleveland and over to Houston tomorrow, and well….you never know.

So, my last class before flying is always very dear to me.  These are often classes where I play with something that is risky and challenges me. Today I taught the first three songs of Passion for the first time, then some songs from Commercial and ended with Earthsong. The focus for the class was an invitation for all of us to cast out for the best class ever. If this was your last time dancing, how would you like to dance?

Not to be morbid or anything but the trugh is that it may be my last class. Any class might. And how can I let myself enjoy each class as if it was the last, to give each class my all? That is what we explored.

As sometimes happens, halfway through the class another focus emerged form me having to do with reaching. Reaching for something beyond my grasp, yet staying grounded.  Sensing how the lengthening of my body from my center and form the earth creates more space in me and more breath. This is what flying feels like to me. I reach with my body and mind into the sky and to keep from freaking out,  I breathe and stay with the sounds and sensations of the plane and the calmness of the flight attendants. On a plane it is a reach that I do with my mind. I reach out to a place of trust, it often a time when I feel very deep gratitude for my life . I also do a lot of 8BC’s to stay grounded and I reach out, cast out, to my next Nia class. I recapitulate, reach back to my previous classes. I carry the thread of joy from the past to the future, though the present state of being suspended in the sky. I look down at the earth and marvel at the beauty of this planet.

And then, inevitably, I land in a new place. My emotional body is already reaching out, reaching to the landing in Houston and then to the time I return to Manchester on Monday. My physical body is still here. At home. One foot on the ground, the other reaching for the stars.

One thought on “Travelling

  1. I loved this post, Maria. I related to the thrill and poignancy of flying. And Buddhism shouts loudly, “Hey! You could die any second! Wake up and be in your life!”–so I related to that aspect as well.

    Come back with a story from Houston for us!

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