Have you heard this?On the radio, driving home from a long day of working and dancing and grocery shopping and errand running and tea drinking with friends? That a group of 4 people will go to Mars in 2023? 4 people. Two women and two men -- are set to leave for Mars in September 2022. They will land in April 2023. And they only get a one way ticket. That means they can't come back.
No matter what. Egads. That sounds AWFUL.
I am a pretty adventurous, but a one way ticket to MARS?
Not in this life. Or the next.
Okay, maybe the one after that, but only if I get to come back to Colorado every year in the fall.
This got me thinking about what an adventure is and who is drawn to what sort of adventure when.
I feel like for me, my adventures have softened.
Did I really just say that? Am I already at that stage in my life when I have soft adventures instead of loud and raucous ones? Is this what they call radical acceptance?
But it's true, they have softened. I still love hiking and traveling and being outside, but I also love being home and moving slowly through the day. And that feels like an adventure because I get to follow each moment with precision and care.
Laura Ann came up yesterday, last minute, and we spent the day together improvising in the morning and then catching up on work in the afternoon. We ate fermented food (I chewed, she gulped the juice down like it was water) and talked and were slow.
And right now I am sitting in the kitchen. There is a bouquet of lavender tulips on the table and I can smell them and it is glorious. The sun and the breeze and the quiet. I am aware of how big the universe is, and yet Mars seems like it is right next door.
And what I mean when I say that is this: Improvising is like traveling to Mars.
Because it too is unknown. And once I am in, I am in. I follow what is in front of me. I sense my body. I sense the world. I notice who I am close to and who I am far away from. I notice what is needed in the space and at what point. I follow the internal pull for movement and for stillness. When I am improvising, I become limitless.
So, all I am saying is that you don't have to go to Mars to become infinite.
You can do that everyday at home, even if it is just for a second.
So, whatever you are doing, stand up now.
Notice how long your exhale is. Notice how long our inhale is. Notice the gaps in between the exhale and the inhale, and the inhale and the exhale. Feel your feet on the earth.
Bend your knees slightly. Lift your toes up, spread them out, and set them down again. Look up. Look down. Look straight in front of you. And then look somewhere else. And somewhere else. And somewhere else.
Now move your arms continuously for 10 counts. Noticing your breath as you move.
Take 3 steps forward and do this sequence again. And again. And again.
Let me know how it goes by posting about it on my newly furbished website:
or on the facebook dance missions page:
I would love to hear from you.
With Warmth, Joanna of Joanna and The Agitators