At this time of year in Australia, all kids are back in school after Summer holidays, the mad dash of organising stationery lists, uniforms, classes and text books has faded to a frustration tinged memory, and routines are getting re- or newly established.
I’m rubbish with routines. Sure, my household has a definite dance number when it comes to our habits and daily to-do lists, which on any given day we sway to, boot scoot through or krump over, but my personal, well-rehearsed daily number is an interpretive dance called “Put the biggest fires out first, quick!” This spectacular requires stomping, scurrying, whirlwind styled pirouettes, frequent tongue biting or forehead slapping at remembering the bits I just forgot, and quite often the grand finale is me tripping over and slamming to a tangled, wince-inducing stop.
I need to learn a new dance. Some bluesy little number to shimmy around my kitchen to, a jazzy routine to bop along to at the traffic lights. New steps, exciting dips and maybe the odd Charleston thrown into the mix.
Unfortunately, I don’t think adding new routines are the answer. Lately, I feel a pull to slow down, to give up the ideal of perfect form and sparkly leotards, and let the music fill me. (Grace, form and internal melodies I’d like, leotards I will cheerfully bury or set fire to – maybe both in quick succession.) I’ve realised that while I have been spinning like a Cossack, trying to get most of the needed things done, the music can still be changed, an intermission announced to let my world stop twirling, and the next song require nothing but a silky sway.
I’m worried I can’t work out how to slow down. Sometimes I simply don’t see options that would have me relax, or at least catch my breath. Too often I’m so determined to continue in the styling and speed which I started the choreography that I’ve missed recognising that the stage has changed, I’ve lost a shoe and there are people willing and able to teach me the steps, or encourage my efforts.
Sorry Led Zep, but the song doesn’t remain the same. The tune changes, the dances evolve, the tempo slows or increases. I’m just hoping my ears, and my feet, recognise the tune, and follow it.
If your daily life/routines were a dance, what would it be called? What style of dance are you currently in? How do you change gears, to either slow or speed up? Do you get impressions that the tempo of your life needs to change? Do you pay attention to them? How do you add them to the dance of your hours, days and life?
Related posts:
Continue reading at the original source →