Welcome to the Commune podcast. My name is Jeff Krasno. A many of you may receive my weekly

Sunday commusing article where I address a breadth of issues from the spiritual to the sociopolitical.

And on occasion, I will also record an audio version of these articles and release it here

as a bonus episode. Today's missive is a reflection on an experience I had with my daughter on

Dean. As Skyler's been traveling quite a bit, and I've been minding my three daughters solo dad style. We're managing. It's not all

cold pizza for breakfast, but it does require a lot of chauffering around to school, to parties,

and to dance class. And from time to time, moments of Satori spring forth out of the logistical mud puddle.

Today's episode encapsulates one of those moments.

It's titled The Waters Course. I furtively watch my daughter, pirouette from outside the window.

All of the other burgeoning ballerinas have packed up their bags,

and Undine is alone in the studio, dancing to Debussy's reverie. Although I am running late,

I hold back and spy. She is yoked with the music, carrying its profound wistfulness in the lilt of her hands.

Her arms unfurl, plaintively, almost lazily, and without concern.

She floats with each sotay and ascends effortlessly with each relevay, instinctively aware of her body in space.

She moves with the water's course, filling the closest empty space,

gently rounding the hard edges of the studio walls.

She knows without knowing where to go.

She's in the river's current, applying the rudder just so, directing its energy.

She is as dancing.

No past, no future, just simultaneous intention and action.

There's something imperfectly perfect to it, a mole on the upper lip, a precious scar across a finger,

an antique doll molten packed together, life with all its brokenness is remembered,

...