Yesterday Clark and I drove to Olympia to dance (again). There were about 40 people, some from Friday night and some new ones. There were more old people like me and more men. One man, from now on called, 'orange man' was in the middle of the room and he was, uh, very big and LOUD. He shrieked and yelled and pounded the floor. I stayed away from him because I envisioned him jumping on my ankle and crushing it. He was very vigorous. One of the young nubile ladies came out of her top while jumping and twirling. Nobody seemed to mind. All in all, a wild time.
We decided we like our Seattle group just fine. And our Seattle teacher.
I have some judgments about folks younger than me 'teaching' in their self-conscious way, encouraging me (us) to 'go deeper' and 'connect with the earth' and assorted claptrap. I don't need anyone to explain or encourage me to alter my experience and I'm not sure anyone else does either. It's an attempt to 'make' people have the same experience, which is, of course, impossible. Sorta like mega churches with their group-think. As I instruct meditation on Wednesday night ( I even hesitate to use the word instruct), it challenges me to teach the basics without shoving anyone in any particular direction. Breathe this way, don't slouch, release thoughts, etc. I'm the 'breathe any old way, lie down if you want, revel in your daydreams' kind of teacher.
After all, what is meditation anyway? I'm still working on this one. Dance is my newest meditation and it's effing fabulous.