At our annual gathering, Tuesday past, the importance of moving our middle-aged bodies to live life to its fullest was discussed. To our rescue arose a voice from the middle of our a cappella. The hush which descended increased her pitch. She, one of us, had part of the solution. On Saturday, all would be revealed.
Saturday arrived. Not 8, not 12, not 15 but 17 of us gathered at 8:30am in the cemetery and there the conductor (her body as the baton) started with ‘Oil ups’.
‘Oil ups’ (for those of you who are interested) are different than stretches. Stretches (our conductor told us) require warm bodies. With the exception of those who were wearing long johns, our bodies were on the cold side.
From what we were told by our conductor ‘oil ups’ are what you do before you stretch. They can be perceived, in musical terms, as the prelude to stretches.
While we were doing our ‘oil ups’ I noticed that a car passed us. I started to wonder what the driver and passengers observed.
My thought is that what they saw were 17 middle-aged women clothed in a diversity of colours listening intently toone person and then an adagio (at ease and slow moving ) explosion of 17 body parts moving up , down and all around. Shoulders waving, chests heaving, arms swaying, hips moving to and fro and back and forth. Then they would have seen what probably appeared to them to be a dissonance form of movement suddenly take on the consonance form – the Toronto Power Walker.
They would have seen the adagio tempo (pace), within seconds, be replaced by an allegro (fast) tempo.
The suddenness of our uniformity may have startled them. One moment arms, hips, legs flailing and the next moment all aligned in the uniformity of a march. Within a blink of an eye, they would have then seen a row of colours disappearing down the road; leaving them to wonder if they really saw what in fact they had seen.
It is doubtful that they would have known that consonance is simply synergized dissonance; a continuum of the movement of life. It is doubtful because most do not see movement in that manner.
I personally, and I am sure an overwhelming majority of us middle-aged women who move to live, would like to thank the maestro for guiding us through the ‘oil ups’. Brava. Brava. I think that the ‘oil ups’ are here to stay or at least that is my hope.