The World is a Circle

Well, I seem to have found something else to enjoy doing.

It's not like working at the Orchard, writing tangos, dancing tangos, relating to my friends is too much.

Now I have to find room to add hula hooping.

Took a workshop - two hours - Saturday, with Jennie Carr, an instructor my friend Adira asked down. I had to miss the first workshop because of work and managed to get a Jim-sized hoop out of it.

This was a hooping hoot.

As usual whenever I walk into such a situation I was pathetically over-dressed. I was also the only male.

One of my tango friends present made the comment that "it's nice to have some male energy here". I (kind of) appreciate it but I think all I had to contribute was sweat.

It's funny - practically all the other participants (did I mention they were all female) had yoga pants or comfortable workout clothes. I'd bet that if I looked in the back seats of their cars I'd find rubber yoga mats, probably in handmade cases with shoulder straps.

It's at moments - moments only, mind you - that I feel the tremendous gap between so many of my friends and myself, a gap defined by how comfortable they are in their bodies and how hatefully I look at mine. I understand the reasons and causes, sink into the feelings until that understanding - and acceptance - come into my heart and then freakin' get back to having fun.

Sometimes, though, it's a heavy lift.

I had come to the class by way of the Oaks, where the strange, humorous synchronicity of Portland presented me with another example of itself. There by the strawberry vendors, above the fountain, was a team of folks teaching kids to hoop - and some adults were learning as well.

I'm told there is a group of hoopers on Fridays in the Rose Garden. If I get off work in time I might grab my hoop and head down - because having fun is more fun than being scared.

Who knew?

Oh - just for fun ...