Stillness, I am still. Frozen. My mind wanders, which way shall I go?
I take a step, to the left, I feel the sole of my foot, hit the ground. Softly. My weight shifts, it moves, forward, backwards, forwards again. Which way?
Backwards. I spin, pivoting on my back foot, spinning, spinning, my knees bending, as I crouch toward the ground.
I push myself off the ground, to the left, my hands splayed, and arms reached wide. One foot remains rooted, connected to the floor. The other extends, touching one of my hands.
Which way, shall I go?
Forwards, it is clear now. Forwards, and toward a new form. I do it. I jump both feet from the ground, propelling myself through the air. Risk. No fear. My feet land again, grounded, in their aliveness, they feel the Earth, and surrender to its safety.
I am still again. My mind does not wander. I know that I will again move, in a new direction, somewhere, anywhere, but it does not matter where.