Cynthia Allen, Feldenkrais and Bones for Life Teacher

My gosh it is hard to say how much I am in love with spring. Life arising brings about a feeling in me that surely most others feel as well.
 
Before bulbs began emerging outside, I was watching amaryllis and paper whites put on their long show. I adore every stage. The dormant bulb has its own kind of beauty when first it sits surrounded by rock or soil and our asian-etched bowl. The unrealized potential yet to emerge feeds me as I watch for daily changes. When those first shoots begin to emerge and I really get excited. Everyday, several times a day, this same enthusiasm is rekindled when my eyes land upon them. I even enjoy watching the sculptural shifts as stems now heavy, bend and sway, this way or that, elegantly draping at the end of this life cycle.
 
Right now, I walk about the yard at least twice a day and when I am home between appointments, I will take another stroll just to witness the new life signs. Last fall I planted quite a lot of bulbs. We have never had tulips at this house, and for the past 12 years, the daffodils come up but never bloom. Currently, several kinds of daffodils are strutting their stuff. Actually there are even more than expected as the old daffodils decided to bloom as well. Apparently they feel compelled to compete with the new kids on the block. The parrot tulips start with the most wild, fringed edges even when quite green and barely out of the ground. Who knew!
 
It is similar to the excitement of a child learning (or an adult for that matter). We are all revived by our own emergence. A new client left this week saying, “maybe I will have a whole new me.” Someone else walks in who can’t wait to show off the new ways she can move and explore. Their childlike pleasure begats the same in me.
 
Recently I began a weekly ritual of listening to Hildegard von Bingen’s Gregorian chants, taking a hot bath, reading the poetry of Rumi or Hafiz, and exploring my own movement. Through the watery container, rhythmic music and mystical verse, I am transported. I listen and sense myself in new ways. Suddenly, after many years of putting my own poetry writing on the shelf, the urge is present and persistent. My pen is coming to paper.
 
Another new way of growing in my life is bowling. Larry and I bowled several times in the past couple of weeks. I was never a bowler and really didn’t enjoy it when I did. But getting out with the grandkids over Christmas, it was surprisingly fun. My recent play has been to bowl both left-handed and right-handed. I tried my right hand on a whim when perplexed at what my dominate hand and arm seemed to be doing. It is a classic Feldenkrais technique to employ, so why not?
 
Can you guess the outcome? I made the first strike of that game. Sometimes I switch hands within the game. Sometimes I bowl one game with one hand, the next with the other. Thus far, I feel good about the playful way in which I am approaching the game and particularly that I am not fixated on getting a score that is not yet within my reach.  My scores are woeful when looked at competitively, but in terms of enthusiasm and playful excitement it is a lot of fun.
 
We have begun dreaming of biking and camping and more gardening. It is spring!  Yes, I am in love and hope you are too.