By Sarah Grady
Been jogging, to scratch an itch, a footfall with each drumbeat in the headphones. I run because I don’t dance lately. Running is a weak substitute, too stern for my tastes. I still itch.
I need a roomful of people, united, bodies pulsing with inertia, respiration entwined with rhythm. I miss looking around at joyful faces, delighted cheers, enraptured movements. I miss the closed eyes. I miss the sweat on the performers.
When I run, the sun often shines in my eyes. It is together in the darkness that we find momentum.
Sarah Grady writes “to spend time with ideas that shape a person and her life.”