Back to Basics
9-935pm
Once again- Bonobo
Tonight I broke out my big girl hoop- my very first claimed hoop- the one that is like my blankie. It's broken, has hardly any black and gold greek key ribbon left and is rough to the touch from too much abuse. But she loves me.
I realize that too frequently I slip into the world of fancy trickery and forget what it meant to me to initially hoop. And more importantly, to dance in the hoop.
The art of movement where my body melds and bends with the hoop effortlessly. Where my legs, my feet, my arms, my torso, and my hoop are all independently pulsing with an energy from my soul...that's the kind of movement I have missed and am craving.
I think of Liz, her style, her grace, and the beauty she possesses and exudes as she dances. Interpreting the smile on her face as she flows feels like I'm looking through a window to her heart. She radiates. I am motivated by these memories, the old days, and the seemingly simpleness of the time.
30 minutes of pure pleasure, allowing myself to open and accept and just be.
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