i had at least as much fun at my second african dance class, and looked at least as ridiculous
so much of my learning is with words
i haven't learned with my body since i learned to type and to play music
it is all so fresh--i feel like a baby to it, wide-eyed and clumsy
the drummers start up in a line, djembes between the knees, on the far side of the room
dancers (and dancers-to-be) line up on the opposite side in several rows.
the instructor, without a word, stands in front of the first row, shows them the steps a few times
and then sends the first row on down the room, dancing the first step to the drummers
when they've cleared, the instructor shows the second row, and so on
it's wordless learning, and it's communal learning
because i get to learn not only from the teacher
but also at least as much from
the many beautifully dancing souls around me

today my muscles are pleasantly sore from the dancing, the streching, and the lifting that I followed up with
i think many of these muscles had been sleeping
and have awakened well-rested and giddy
they pull on my noci-ceptors like little kids running up to their parent's bed at dawn
and shout to me "Ari, look! We're awake!"