I curl my hip in a circle then pop it up. Limp wrist. I soft focus and the group is reaching upward with jazz hands. We've been moving for thirty minutes, thinking too hard, not living in our bodies and allowing kinesthetic response. The tension is building and we may be stuck in a brain loop. I'm resenting the movement, but I can't find a way to make myself stop popping my hip. The jazz hands continue and the brain loop is stuck on repeat. Hip pop. Limp wrist. Jazz hands. Hip pop. Limp wrist. Jazz hands. Hip pop. Limp wrist. Then a scream. It's Erika. She's vocalized. "Guidepost." The loop has been cut and a new shape is being drawn. I move in sharp angles. I slice the air with my elbow. I'm drawn toward the group. The group is no longer doing jazz hands. I slice the air with my knee. "Guidepost." We are finding new movements now, new loops, but we haven't forgotten the first loop. The jazz hands come back intermittently, but this time they tickle us. "Guidepost." Jazz hand. "God." Sharp angle. "Guy." I soft focus on Toby. He's trouble. His jazz hands are the ticklers and we move away as people shout, "God." People shout, "Guy." People shout, "Guidepost." God. Guy. Guidepost. God. Guy. Guidepost. God. Guy. God. Guy. God. Guy. Toby's jazz hands are about to tickle me and it's too much to handle so I jump up in the air and scream in my shrill, high-pitched voice, "Lady Gaga!" God. Guy. Gaga. God. Guy. Gaga. A new loop begins.