A spark of enlightenment was kindled in my mind today while I was going through the last few movements of my dance work-out this morning. Executing the steps out of some innate instinct, allowing the rhythm of the music to meld with some unnamed part of my being, I couldn't deny that dancing was more elemental than physical, more sacred than skill. It may not be something which I readily feel every day, during every dance, nor something which I can summon or command at will. But for me, for dancing to be what it essentially is, every movement has to be as whispery as air, yet paradoxically, every gesture has to be liquid, subtly visible, defined, fluid without being tentative. And every step has to be on fire with passion, devoid of inhibitions, yet incandescent with purity, as close to quintessence as there can possibly be.