Shall We Dance?

On a recent morning, I was on our second-story deck practicing taijiquan. Since the deck is ten feet off the ground, it means I’m ten feet up in the Western red cedars and maples that surround us.

When I’m doing taiji right, not just going through the motions, but actually slowing down all of me and being freshly in the moment in its fullness, this vantage point up in the trees is magical.

On this particular morning, I was only partially there: enjoying the quiet stillness, the cool air, and the flow of the movements; but a little distracted, not fully committed to being here.

And then a teacher came. A dance partner, really, in the form of a maple seed. It came drifting down past me as its twin, paper-thin wings helicoptered on the slight breeze to rest the seed gently on the welcoming earth. The graceful arc of the descent, and the unhurried spin of the samara’s wings felt like an invitation: “Shall we dance?”

I said, “Yes, let’s,” and paused from my distracting inner chatter, giving myself wholly to the silent glide of the taiji movements and the music of the morning.

This reminds me of another time, many years ago, when I decided I wanted to write a collection of poetry. Up to that point, I had only written when the creative urge became so strong it forced me to sit down and let the words pour out. But for this project, I needed to be able to write more frequently than those occasional flashes of inspiration. I needed to be inspired on demand. Or so I thought.

What I learned, though, was that the concept of “on demand” wasn’t at all what was needed. I just had to be open… to look… and to listen. I discovered that if I went for a walk in nature not demanding inspiration but inviting it, a poem would invariably come. Like the maple seed during my taiji practice, the poems were there for me to see… if I paused open, and listened, and gave myself wholly to letting them speak.

These small moments of discovery come repeatedly because I need the reminder regularly: We can touch and be touched by all sorts of wonder if we come ready to listen.

…And let the moment know our dance card is open.