3; entry two: motion

So Okay a second one (ii)

The machine was out of gas, even though I had just filled it with gas;
and when I finally refilled it, it ran. I had made up a series of ungrateful stories about how this had occurred,
but the moment I will savor was later on the phone - an interpretation -
hearing how the lawn mower is mad at me for letting that other fellow mow my lawn this summer.
Lying on my back on the sofa,I kicked my legs in the air and laughed freely. Who behaves this way? Who gives permission to be playful in the body, dancing and prancing when feelings arise in our limbs? It seems in our nature not to be still creatures all the time. Some times be still, sometimes be motion,
dodge the balls that are lobbed across the evening sky when an adolescent,
playing among a circle of neighborhood children.

My brother has something he does in the kitchen when he discovers a big new genealogical link in the family hedge, his wife calls it the cousin dance.

To movement I respond stillness, to stillness, movement. That is the idea that accompanies this morning. And layers with these two previous thoughts. We were walking in rainy mist and the walking and earlier stretching accompanied a quietness in my mind. A peacefulness settled. We were cloud walking.