Painful Dancing.

I love 5 Rhythms dance. It gives me brief glimpses of my own perfection, my being transported back into muscle and movement, tension and release, poise and anger, my brain a mere dispossessed onlooker. But last night I was troubled by the more practical matter of slippy heels and by having stayed up till 4am watching the Super Bowl the night before. I was having a lovely time but for these two factors so decided to remedy them by moistening my feet and face in the toilet. In retrospect it would have been easy to moisten said feet with my hand or a paper towel but from lack of sleep decided to put my foot in the bowl. Thus with one foot and both hands in the bowl and the other foot on the floor I formed a sort of plane of body parts. If I’d cared to thing about this construction, a plane supported at two co-planar points, I would have realised it was inherently unstable, but I didn’t. A brief period of “Oh no!” was followed by a huge ‘crack’ as my plane almost literally disassembled onto the floor. Like a Disney cartoon I reassembled and checked I’d put myself back together correctly and felt for damage. Bruised hip, scuffed elbow and right hand immobile from its fingers being bent back unreasonably. Considering the loudness of the crack I’d heard I was amazed my skull wasn’t broken. I still don’t know what it was, and I’m not inclined to ask. Back in the dance I sat by a wall and went into healing as animals do, just sit and wait, it will pass. Well dancing wasn’t quite the same after that and this morning my hand is fine if I don’t move it.