The following poem came to me in the middle of the latest Writing From the Body retreat that Claire Robson and I facilitated. I’ve never considered myself a poet AND it’s amazing what happens when my body opens and my mind stops resisting. If you don’t know what I’m talking about in the poem find a Nia class near you and find out.
Nia Moves Me
Oh I can’t even list the half-formed ‘Committee of Assholes’ thoughts
that crowd me at the beginning of class.
Am I going too fast – too slow?
Is the music too loud – too quiet?
Should I say more – or should it have been less?
And then the music starts –
I slide my hands down the front of my body.
I pay attention to the smooth sensations on my finger tips.
My muscles stretch, contract, engage, release
as I fold and unfold
running the energy,
the grins on others’ faces mirroring mine
the powering up and letting go
the squeeze and release action.
The length of the ride from release to squeeze and back…
I revel in this
the flush and blush of blood moving, body moving –
all those cells activating and shifting in their own bio-chemical way
Oh ya …head… now filled with
-ooh that slide of muscle on the back of my thigh
-ah, this breath, this moment
-that foot to earth, that hand to space
-these ribs shifting – intercostals engaging and releasing
I love watching and being with the flow of energy as it shifts through the class;
eye to eye, smile to smile, elbow to elbow, exhale to exhale
bodies waking up, joints unfolding, muscles activating.
I love hearing the first giggle, whether it’s mine or someone else’s.
The gracious powerful moments of connection and flow
playing with the awkward, the slow and off beat.
I love the ecstatic raging physical extensions
almost as much as I love catching the subtle shift in someone’s wrist.
… all these tiny moments inside yells and outside whispers…
I love these tiny yesses bouncing off each other,
reverberating and vibrating inside
until they explode out with yes, yes, yes and YES!