Sliding. Legs open, rustling, the sound of hands on paper- what’s that noise?

Clear glass enveloping minimal sounds and closing out the actual volume of outside activity. Rough. At times. Silence at times. Is anything ever silent or do we just become numb to things?

Isn’t there just … a constant humming… a bit of shuffling… a sliding sensation

Eyes closed. In my left ear I hear … kids laughing. They play. The hum of busy streets. Cars passing by.

Eyes closed. In my right ear I hear … buzzing, humming, stereo. Shuffling. Stillness.

A bug hits the window. My eyes open.

Sensation. Vibration. Transfer of energy. Being intercepted.

And where does it hit me. It is about me. This is how I listen. I is physical if its imagined – things go through me.

How do we listen? How can we open up in the listening?

In the meantime… there is something about the meantime that implies waiting. But what if it just involves listening and being? Why would we wait?

wait – v. to remain inactive or in a state of repose, as until something expected happens (often followed by for, till, or until)

wait – v. to remain neglected for a time

meantime – n. the intervening time or period, as between events

Well it just sounds like a waste of time when you look at it like that. Inactive, neglected – no thank you. So why not fill the meantime with presence and activity.

I am saying this because I have spent a lot of time waiting over these past couple of months. Battling the waiting to be honest because I am anticipating a series of events (that are happening quite soon – next week to be exact) and I am quite nervous about the turn of these events. So nervous that if I allow myself to think about it properly I could cry.

But in the meantime I still have to be here. Because they aren’t happening yet. And when they do I will be well able for whatever the present moment brings. So long as I am there in the present moment. Usually when things cause a person great stress leading up to the thing – the presence during the thing is magnified.

Well I’d like to take that magnifying glass and tip it right back to this very moment. And magnify the meantime. What would you do in the meantime, if you could see the meantime as invaluable?

*The excerpt at the beginning of this post was prompted in a choreographic mentorship called Make & Move by a colleague named Sarah Ryan. The rest was inspired by a good friend of mine, and by life as I know it to be (so far of course).