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On September 11, 9 a.m., outside Sweeney Hall at San Jose State University, I was taking Modern Technique outside and with the way stipulations require us to dance outside, we get to see all the people who pass by on campus. This can easily be distracting, but a couple of people caught my eye in particularly in the middle of leg swings. I noticed a mother pushing her little girl in a stroller. What sent my thoughts whirling was the way the toddler bounced her feet up and down without a care in the world, despite wearing a mask from a pandemic, smoke filling the air, ashes falling from the skies, and her shoe falling off from the bouncing. Nothing mattered except the freeness of being pushed through a beautiful place with her mama. Her mother stepped on the shoe from not seeing it fall off, because of the distracting class of dancers. The little person allowed every muscle to sink into the stroller, giving in to being led and cared for. The rebound of the feet was merely due to not having a worry and being completely and utterly present with contentment. Springing legs are in result of many different emotions and purposes, but this was bliss. I was envious of this little girl.

In a way, it was not my choice to notice this situation, due to class being out in the open where distractions are inevitable, but the way she sent me into an existential crisis was definitely welcomed. As a creative, I often have situations similar to this where I am physically present, but in every other way I am far far away. If I had the focus of a perfect student, this observation would have never happened, but luckily I have the focus of a normal human being. Yet, the way it hit and moved me would not have necessarily been as impactful to another normal human being. This was only a brief couple of seconds of tuning out my poor professor, but it sent my spiraling thoughts into, what felt like, an hour of connections and neuron sparks.

I learned a few things. Personally, in order to take class fully focused, I need to be in a studio, preferably on the second floor of a building with windows that do not provide a great view of the life going on outside. I also learned that I love the way I can take in the most random of stimulus and be powerfully moved by it. I am innately drawn to life, beauty, and am forever curious about connections, relationships, and the purpose of it all. After class, I walked home asking myself questions. Why was I so jealous of this little girl? What about her free spirit do I assume I cannot also attain? How nice is it to be a toddler in 2020? But then I realized, that is also the beauty of life. I was a toddler on September 11, 2001. I had no idea the grief, pain, trauma, and death that was going on around me, yet I kept bouncing my legs with bliss. This will always be a topic that makes my internal world feel conflicted, but I do not think anyone else who ever lived figured it out, so why do I feel the need to be the one who does? I just want to sit in a stroller and give in to what leads me.