So we’ve dealt with the pesky topic of school reports (last week’s column – the gist: ignore them) but July also brings Sports Day. Naturally the only race that matters is the Mother’s: as one wise ten-year-old said to his mater in her spiked running shoes, it’s all about taking part – as long as you win. I didn’t take part. Competitive sport is not my thing. We all know we need to exercise/ the endorphin highs/ health benefits/ blah blah blah… But we must all find what works for us. For me, it’s dance. As I left my Santhosh class this week (Sanskrit for happiness), here’s why it is a key to calm. Mastering the steps requires concentration, much like poetry, and that stops me worrying. I feel natural and unforced moving to the beat, just as children dance instinctively, and indeed also love poetry, rhyme and rhythm. Dancing is the closest any ‘exercise’ can come to being an art form. My fellow dancers are warm (literally), supportive, and encouraging: it’s therapeutic to be part of such a group. I’m too old to ‘win’ or ‘lose’. And yes, you’ve guessed it: I’m off to suggest a Mother’s Dance at my child’s school … santhoshdance and santhoshretreats.
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