Dancing at the playground
Spin
Inside the Creation Stories of Dancing Mother
Dancing at the playground
by Mother Mother Binahkaye Joy
The playground is one of my least favorite places to dance. But the munchkins love it, and I promised them some time there before the rains were set to pour.
The pre-storm breeze was an unexpected delight. As I watched my children play I started to sway with the breeze, initially from a seated place, but then I got up to feel the space a bit more.
Luminous Glory was finding her newly walking freedom quite nicely, and the ground was clean enough for us to move around barefoot.
My big-big boys were playing soccer with some kids they had just met, and the little-big munchkins were happily running in and out of the splash park, to the swings, to the slide, and beyond. Everyone was in their joy, so I decided to find mine.
It’s rare that I have my body to myself. I have been attached to or in close, physical proximity to one or more children nearly continuously for 11 years now.
My movements are a reflection of this intimacy. My bones, my center of gravity, my muscles, my breathing, everything is in tandem with my children.
When I dance I am feeling multiple frequencies: who’s hungry, who’s tired, who’s got to get to the bathroom, who’s fighting, who needs to be carried, nursed, soothed, celebrated.
Every movement is a witness of my labors, and the multitude of intelligences they hold.
