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“Dancing is a relief, but it can’t be everything. I am starting to realize this. I can close my eyes and will myself to stop thinking for three, maybe five minutes at a time. I can dance my way out of my head and into my body, where things briefly make sense, but which I always have to leave eventually. Relief never lasts forever. The world is always there, waiting for me with its relentless weirdness. I must always eventually come back. I must stand still. And it is in that stillness that the other parts of me return, the parts of me that intersect with and bump against the rest of the world. The parts that remember and feel.” — Amy Reed
Dancing is a relief, but it can’t be everything. I am starting to realize this. I can close my eyes and will myself to stop thinking for three, maybe five minutes at a time. I can dance my way out of my head and into my body, where things briefly make sense, but which I always have to leave eventually. Relief never lasts forever. The world is always there, waiting for me with its relentless weirdness. I must always eventually come back. I must stand still. And it is in that stillness that the other parts of me return, the parts of me that intersect with and bump against the rest of the world. The parts that remember and feel.