Music Class
Photo by doc_otto, Flickr
This morning was Open Music Class at my four-year-old daughter’s school. I walked into the class five minutes late, holding my daughter’s hand on my left and my cell on my right, thinking I’d text or tweet if it should get boring. To my surprise, I walked in to find all the parents and kids organized in a circle, taking turns coming up with some bodily motion like clapping their hands or tapping their shoulders that the rest of the circle could repeat to the sound of the beat. After that, the music teacher put on a song that called out instructions. Bend your knees, twirl around, put your hands to your child’s and clap them like patty-cake, twirl around, bend your knees…
Do you know where I’m going with this? Here I am thinking I’m going to be passively observing a pre-school music class, when in fact I’m actually unknowingly being given an MS exam!
If you’ve been following my blog you know that a piece of cake recently succeeded in bringing me over to the dark side. I transgressed from my diet a couple times since as well (Pandora’s Box of sweets can sometimes be hard to shut) and have predictably suffered some mild symptoms as a result, one of which is some funky balance. So I’m bending like I’m being instructed to bend, and I’m twirling like I’m being instructed to twirl, but I’m noticing the clumsiness of my feet in stopping properly from that twirl. I’m noticing that it takes some effort to make sure my hands meet my daughter’s to clap. I’m noticing the way I don’t completely have faith in my body’s ability to follow the simple instructions being given. Meanwhile, I’m looking around at all these kids, laughing, moving with such confidence and ease, and suddenly I remember.
Do you remember?
Being a kid? The surefooted confidence that everything in your body works as it should? When I remember being a kid I think of swinging on the monkey bars in my backyard swing set. I was graceful and strong, the sun was shining, I made it across those bars every time, I landed my feet on the ground exactly where I aimed them. I felt the freedom and power of my body, the blissful ignorance that anything could ever impede it.
If you don’t remember being vital, and healthy, stop reading now, and remember. What does health feel like? What does it look like? Because it’s not enough that we don’t want to be sick. We must go further than that. We have to have a full sensory representation of health and vitality, of being WELL! When was the last time you let yourself remember how it felt to be inside that childhood body?
Go there. Remember. Now you are beginning to create a worthwhile goal in which to aim yourself.
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