Joy and movement

Today I did a cartwheel.

A bad one, sure. I don’t think I’ve done a cartwheel since I was in grade school. They used to be my favorite, and at least in my head, I thought I was pretty good at them.

I’ve been thinking a lot about joy and how to access it. I don’t feel like joy is a thing I feel, but I have some memory of it. Having a good time and being so caught up in the moment that I’m not thinking about the moment. I am spontaneous and unfiltered. I’m not thinking, “This is good, how do I keep this going?” I’m not thinking, “This is good, don’t mess it up.”

Sometimes I feel this electricity in my body vibrating with all of the things I could do. I could travel. I could hike. I could run. I could do yoga. I could reach out and hug someone and jump up and down. I could dance. I could do a cartwheel. I could do a handstand. I think and think and think. I could I could I could. But what if someone’s watching? What if I fail? What if someone thinks I’m weird? What if it’s inappropriate? What if it’s too much?

I’ve been thinking about cartwheels and handstands and joy. I want to do be able to do a handstand. I want to be able to do a cartwheel. I want to find more reasons to do them. I want to stop feeding the idea that the electricity of joy is too loud, too attention-seeking, too much. Joy is vulnerable. I have to get past that. It’s the only way to get my feet up in the air.

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