This is your assignment. Feel your feet on the earth. She tells me about this show, on the theater, a woman, small, as frail and weak as a small bird, walking across the stage. Falls. Gets up. Falls. Gets up. Falls. Gets up. This happens over and over again. Then the woman says, in a frail and weak voice, "Fall Down. Get Up. One Movement." I forget that we animals are made to get up, that my daughters learned to walk by falling down and pushing their hands into the grass to pop up again, that my brothers did, my parents did, my grandparents did, that I did, as a baby girl, somewhere in the Southern Hemisphere, on an island with the smell of eucalyptus on the ocean air. This is my assignment. Start with my feet. Start somewhere. It is one movement.