We came out to Colorado to hang out with other amateur radio folks, playing with the massive radio telescope owned by the Deep Space Exploration Society. Among the cool things: Using radio to bounce our voices off the moon. Pretty exciting, considering the moon is a couple hundred thousand miles away.
Then there was dancing, of course. But since we’re on the second floor in a hotel room where the furniture bounced and rattled every time I jumped, I had to keep myself to level one.
It’s a busy travel day, so I danced the shorter 35-minute online Bloom routine with Kellie Chambers.
I’m like the bee on my rosemary in this picture. Blooming nicely here in October in mild Oregon, the rosemary bushes still attract dozens of bees, and they arrive just a little before the sun touches the plants. I got an early start, too, tumbling out of bed to dance in PJs.
Somewhere in the last 10 minutes of dancing, my mind let go of words for just a few moments and was all movement, breath, music. That doesn’t happen very often. Mostly my brain is working… what to do next, what time it might be, what will I write about, what about pain, anything hurting? It can be so noisy in there.
I love it when it quiets. I have a little experience with meditation, with noticing the breath while sitting. To have the mind quiet for just a bit while moving is a rare and welcome part of Nia for me.
The religion of my family has a profound scripture: “Men are that they might have joy.” I grew up hearing that, and perhaps it’s among the most meaningful legacies for me of that faith, right up there with loving kindness as a guiding principle.
So when I think about the reasons behind my decision to commit to a daily practice for more than seven weeks, part of it was simple curiosity about experiencing joy in a physical way every day. Nia is all about joy of movement. It’s about learning to love how I feel in my body. What would it be like to feel that every day?
Here’s what it’s like: Every day, I have an interlude — any where from five minutes to 65 minutes, depending on my mood and the routine — where I am joyful.
Honestly, every day. So far, anyway. Joy takes different shapes. Some days it’s calming. Some days it’s exuberant and childlike. Some days it’s a kind of loving acceptance of whatever is going on that I am powerless over. And some days it’s simple joy, like being warmed by sunshine, like a friend I adore smiling my way.
I have invited friends to dance Nia with me and some have come. Not everybody experiences the enchantment that I’ve found. And I think that is how life works. There are many many ways to bring joy.
My hope is that everyone finds their path to joy. And not just fleeting glimpses. But a path, marked by their experience and enhanced by the experience of those with whom they resonate.
Find a way to joy. And find a way back to joy when it’s needed.
Susan Palmer's Exquisite Now 