a new frequency of awareness: mindfulness, movement, creativity, and community
As a child, I remember searching for the elusive frequency of my favorite radio station on my purple plastic boombox. Delicately moving the plastic knob a tiny turn left, or right, listening until the music started flowing, pulsing, pushing into my bedroom without static or interruption. I was tuning in.
I am tuning in again. Searching for the vibration that resonates with my internal amplitudes and amplifies the music that is already written in my body. Moving the dial left, then right, tiny little turns each day while I listen for the signal. Is the music flowing or is the static chopping up my rhythm?
This evening, in Creating Space, I blessed my journal with a grasshopper. I have been vibrating with the grasshopper’s song as I try to let go of my ant hill hustle for worthiness. You know, I have read a few articles about how the grasshopper leaps with enormous power in her legs and the physics of a catapult are able to send her far afield. But how does she land? Does she know where her one wild and precious body will alight? Upon the grass, a bush, a stone?
Do any of us know where we will land? Especially, when we catapult ourselves away from danger or maybe we are taken over with a wild dance of sheer joy and we leap into the unknown.
trying not to read too many posts too fast… but grasshopper… irresistible…tried to catch one once, in the only way I would ever… became this… for the sheer laughter/dark laughter of it from the book, “Llanto Tonto”:
The Grasshopper
Hop! Hop!
I can’t stop…
Oh this is so
silly: wobbly
earth, world
elsewhere, but I
just jump and run,
jump in the sun
and sometimes over the lonely moon.
If there is, I mean, nothin’ jumpin’,
how is anything known?
It’s an ill wind that is not blown.
What mean to remain?
Jump! Jump! I am no chump,
but I have dreamed of the fabled ant,
home-schooled and loam-schooled
how he granular moves
in a loveshine of sun.
But I – because I could not stop
for winter, for a prairie fire, for the high
hawk, they kindly swooped for me.
They were he, she, this that and the other
thing I was going to tell you after
I could smell you, but it got
forgotten – and then, I think I was eaten.
Help! Help! Stop.
A Grasshopper’s Jump, or more specifically their landing- what a great example of Let Go Let God 🙂