In my new home, I have a swathe of deepest dark blue lavender right outside my bedroom window. And I woke up to the sight of a big, fat, fluffy bee-fly sipping nectar from it. Imagine that. Nobody would ever know this beautiful creature is a fly. She looks like a bee and moves like a hummingbird. I watched her, she has a dance, a rhythm, a sway. In, sip, back, and a swinging, swopping sideways flight. In, sip, back and a swinging, swooping, sideways flight.
And then I watched the bin men (refuse collection to those who don’t know colloquial English). They have a dance. Two men and a big vehicle dancing together. The vehicle moves along slowly and the men, just in front or by its side. The first man collects the blue recycling sacks and the food caddy, then the vehicle stops just when the man is standing at the side of the vehicle, where the food waste goes. How does the driver know? Surely, he can’t see from his seat? No sooner has the food been thrown in than the vehicle moves slowly on until the man is standing at the back where the recycling sacks are thrown. Once again, the driver can’t see, but he waits just as long as it takes for the man to get them all in, and then moves slowly on. They are in rhythm with each other, they know each other’s moves. It’s a smooth, well-choreographed routine.
Everybody today is doing the dance of life. And the Universe is reminding me that we can all dance around our day, dance and sway, slide and sashay as we clean and gather, cook and work, whatever we are doing. When we walk, we can glide, when we stand, we can gesture with gently moving arms and hands that write their music in the air.