Photo:  Pam White, of Paula Josa-Jones in “Frogs in a Well.”

We are born and live inside black water in a well.
How could we know what an open field of sunlight is? Don’t
insist on going where
you think you want to go.  Ask the way to the spring.  Your
living pieces will form
a harmony.  There is a moving palace that floats in the air
with balconies and clear
water flowing through, infinity everywhere, yet contained
under a single tent.

From The Glance, by Rumi, Translated by Coleman Barks

Many years ago I choreographed a solo that I called “Frogs in a Well.”  It was inspired by a book of the same name about the fate of Muslim women living in purdah, who saw the world as if they lived at the bottom of a well.

Presently I am noticing that the uncertainty, the current anxieties – about selling our house, about money, about our pregnant daughter  (I think I wont go on) – that these stresses are pushing me into the black water in a well.  That I am losing sight of Rumi’s “open field of sunlight.”

Today I began my day with a swim.  Many years ago, my sister made a beautiful image with wild flowers that she had gathered that read, “Lie back and the sea will hold you.”  In the water, I could feel myself surrendering, softening into that embrace.

Inside, I lit a candle and washed out the water bowls that surround the Ganesh in our living room, refilling them with clear water.  These small rituals remind me to be here, to soak in the pleasure of the moment, to love what is here now, and not to wait.