The beginning of Dammi il mio giorno, Salvatore Quasimodo
Dammi il mio giorno;
ch’io mi cerchi ancora
un volto d’anni sopito
che un cavo d’acque
riporti in trasparenza,
e ch’io pianga amore di me stesso.
Grant me my day; so I might yet search myself for some dormant face of the years that a hollow of water returns in its transparency and weep for love of myself.
I am coming up on finishing a year of Alexander Technique teacher training. How curious a thing is an Alexander Technique teaching training! Inexplicable. I often want to run away from it but doing so would be losing the battle. I think. I feel like an island unto myself…ensconced in my extraordinary, intense, intimate Alexander Technique teacher training. In a way I have lost myself a little. I’m in a maze and I must find my way out while smiling all the time. I feel unruly, like my hair which I am growing out… My hair and I don’t know how to be at the moment. The very core of me is changing so drastically. I strive to be in the present moment…however when the present is morphing into the future…I feel that hermetic poetry is in the process of being written… I feel that I am isolated and solitary, occupied and full, while I am engaging in this singular pursuit. I want to be calm and quiet. I want to hunker down and immerse myself in the work…while keeping grounded by all else that I do.
Even though I have a long way to go, my sensory appreciation is getting more and more reliable. I am wallowing in those lightbulb-turning-on moments of kinesthetic awareness! They keep me going. And I trust in the future…