"tenderness"

While my neighbors reveled in various states of masked and inebriated Halloween folly, I sat in mediation for four straight hours, three of which I endured without shifting my position, straddling alternating bouts of excruciating agony and ecstatic bliss. When I emerged, knees throbbing, heart soaring, head tingling, all I craved was a loving hug. I limped my way into the bathtub, allowing the hot, salty, lavender-laced water to envelope me it's own warm, wet version of the embrace I craved.

And so, I found it fitting to be learning a routine to General Public's "Tenderness" in Ryan Heffington's Sweaty Sundays dance class the next day, receiving just the sort of energies I'd been craving by way of the boogie, and the tune we were jazz-squaring to.

While my right leg and foot were still numb from the evening's four-hour purification sit, my body was thrilled to be moving. We split into groups and spread out to rock the moves. Midway through the routine, I felt a sudden burst of sensation on the bottom of my foot. And suddenly, "tenderness" took on another meaning, entirely.

raw foot flesh against the backdrop of the day's Osho spread

oh, the graceful, delicate beauty of dancer's feet.