Otherworldly fog took over the landscape on Monday. After dropping my six-year-old son, Simon, off at camp in Dunhill, I went to the unmarked beach again. Suffering from heavy anxiety, I paused to look out over the vast beach from the top of the steep cement stairs, and the line of vision was severely blocked by the heavy white cloud.
Exploring and seeking an inspiring place to dance, I walked west, passing several beaches…
Yesterday we woke to blue skies for the first time since we have been in Ireland. After dropping my son, Simon, off at camp, I set out to explore the local beach again, hoping to find a place to dance. Given the fair weather, there were several people enjoying the beach and I didn’t feel comfortable dancing there. Because it is exceedingly dangerous, I’ve sworn off the unprotected cliff path that departs from the east end of the beach, despite its compelling beauty. I spotted a different cliff path at the west end of the beach and decided
I was overly optimistic in putting on a bathing suit. During a brief glimpse of blue, we rushed to get to the sea, hoping for at least a few moments of beach fun. As it was, the blue was enclosed again by white sky long before we made it to the beach, but we decided to explore anyway. We found a place to park near Bonmahon Beach in Co. Waterford, Ireland and set up the sandy path to the sea. I shivered with
While everyone in New York is suffering through a heat wave, I have been wearing sweaters and still shivering. This is my seventh day in chilly Ireland, traveling with my six-year-old son, Simon. First, we explored the astonishingly beautiful western region of Connemara. In Connemara, there is water everywhere. Lush vegetation goes all the way to the edges of every puddle, lake and river, giving the impression that everything is extremely full. Rock juts up through the green in impressive, unpeopled, ancient mountains. Rolling fields patchworked in different greens and hemmed by squared stone walls stretch all the way to the ocean’s edge. Textured layerings of
For the second week in a row, I unexpectedly attended the Sunday Sweat Your Prayers class. For the second week in a row, the class was guest taught by an accomplished teacher from another country, in this case Hannah Loewenthal from South Africa. And for the second week in a row, I explored new and delightful aspects of partnership.
I took a long time to gather myself on entering; and I went silently through a ritual of bowing into the space. I felt emotional and took tiny steps, moving like water through the many floor-moving bodies that were distributed equally around the studio. I found a spot near the middle of the room and began to move in energetic circles, rolling over the back of my head again and again and letting the gestures cast me in arcs, pausing to tense in key stretches as I was quickly called to action.
Hannah, perhaps noting the quickening of the room,
My grandmother used to say that you get a “special intention” every time you enter a new church for the first time, as my mother reminded me recently. A special intention is pretty much guaranteed to travel straight to God’s ear, and has a strong chance of a good outcome—kind of like a direct prayer line. That is exactly how I felt
