The Art of Dance. The name of my new class! A tiny shift on paper but a massive shift in my world. One that came about so impossibly that it can only be thanks to God's intervention. For all my strategizing, striving, strain and stress, constantly maneuvering (dodging, receiving) the aggression, intensity, and volatile temperaments in my workplace, this transaction was inconceivably smooth. For once, with minimal effort on my part, everything just fell into place, in spite of the personalities, admonishments, and seeming difficulty of it all. Where the opposite is a daily practice, God really made mountains into molehills. Suddenly, in a place of such heaviness...my burden is light! (Matthew 11:30)

During the March Forth madness happiness, all kinds of things surfaced, including the journals (diaries) I kept throughout college. Check out the name of this purple one from nearly twenty years ago (eighteen, to be exact), long enough for me to forget most of what's recorded inside. Turns out some things haven't been forgotten, after all.

Before falling asleep last night, I was thinking about my difficulty "hearing" from God. Then I had a gorgeous  dream. It was a rehearsal for a dance show in which each piece represented a sculpture (Rodin, most likely) showing how the figures got into the positions captured in the sculpture. One dance had a leaping man. Another dance had a couple in the foreground, upright and closely intertwined. The last dance featured multiple figures crossing upstage, simple black silhouettes against a vivid orange ombre backdrop.

How's that for the Art of Dance?!? And a new chapter in that book :)