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Last night I stood under a clear, starry sky and played my wooden flute. The tall, swaying, red pines were my audience. No, I’m wrong. There were also the fire flies who darted around in the dusk air. And the half moon seen partially through the trees. The flute was my expression of awe and ache, loneliness and fullness, frustration and gratitude. It had a voice that could express all of that and like the fire flies, sometimes changing direction quickly, unexpectantly. My flute didn’t analyze any of it. It just accepted my breath and channeled it into beauty.

I am one of the lucky ones. I have a community that allows me to express all these pieces of myself in a circle of laughter, ease and understanding. I use the voice of my throat, the movements of my body, the stories of my past and present, the fullness of who I am in this community we call InterPlay. The mystery of our being is so much more than words, so we relish the opportunity to express through the sweep of an arm, the sway of our hips, the touch between two open hands. Throughout human time, cultures have used dance as an important part of life, for sacred ritual and for mundane life. It is built into everyday life and draws people together, body to body, as a safe yet deep way of connecting. Expression through voice, breath and body are as old as the trees who sway in my backyard under the moon. And the earth accepts my dance, my breath, my voice and channels it into beauty. Or at least accepts it into the beauty that already is. I know this to be true and it gives me life.