Field Trip

As a movement teacher, I take my students to the place in the field where the melted snow has made mud that sucks, licks, pulls, beckons shoes, beckons bare feet to go there, to sink, spread, and merge with this place. Together, we probe the mud with our shoe-covered toes and consider its qualities.

This too is a dreaming field.

Movement Score

Where in the world are you? What in-between setting do you find yourself in? Frozen ground now thawing? Sprinklers now running themselves out? Are you skirting the edge of a pond? Have the monsoon rains ceased?

Wherever you are, look for slurping ground, then shed your shoes and socks once you find it.

Roll up your trousers and step into the mud.

Breathe into opening pores,

into skin that drinks, that slurps moisture and draws it

into your bones.

Bones that taste minerals.

Take a walk.