teaching my first movement class

I was at my maternal grandparents' home - the home they lived in when they were alive - in the 'number one' bedroom: the room I used to sleep in when I stayed with them as a child. The room was now much bigger with windows lining the entirety of one wall. I was about to teach a movement class and realised I had not prepared. This was somewhat alarming as it was my first-ever class. Even so, participants had arrived and were in the process of laying thick blue yoga mats in a grid on the wooden floor. I had to proceed. I lay my mat on the floor on a diagonal in a corner, facing the class, with the windowed wall to my right. I could see the sun going down and knew we would soon experience the peace and ambience of dusk. The room was full to capacity - perhaps 20 people, both male and female, with room around each to stretch and move. I knew I had the perfect playlist; I'd been creating it for years. I had to trust all I'd learned - all the dance and movement I'd done in my lifetime, the warm-ups, breathing, stretching, moves and cooling-down relaxations - would come back to me now.

changing old habits

I was at a party in my family home. Not the house my parents live in now, but the house we built and lived in while I was growing up. Friends, family and strangers gathered in the lounge room and kitchen. As the party started, I poured a white wine for my friend and myself, then we spent the afternoon and evening hosting the guests. As the party was winding up, with only a few guests remaining, I offered my friend another glass of wine, which she refused. Although I didn't really feel like a wine, I found it difficult to get my head around that I'd only had one the whole party. I was experiencing inner conflict, which sometimes coincides with change - hanging on to old habits. Finally, the party finished, everyone had gone and I stood alone in the lounge room. My family were downstairs. I looked around and realised everyone had brought presents. Opened presents and wrapping paper were strewn all over the lounge room floor and I realised they were all for me. Although exciting, the room was a mess. I was tired, so I wondered if I could simply close the door, block out the mess and return to clean it tomorrow. I went to the doorway leading to downstairs and saw opened presents and their wrapping everywhere - on the landing, down the stairs and beyond. 'Did everyone think this was a house warming party?' I asked my parents. I realised I needed to begin the sorting process now.