Maybe. After all, instead of writing cleanly -- about Dance wear, the perfect gift for your dance teacher or costly competitions that will transmit the values of combativeness and expediency to impressionable children -- I'm making a mess trying to write about movement.

Words set ideas down and movement always moves; the two worlds are hard to reconcile. When you try, you usually end up sounding vague or mashing together a bunch of metaphors, each one a facet, a point of view that just might, for someone, trigger something interesting. Urgggh! I know: it's unbearable to listen to!

Luckily, there's other inspiration to be found out there.

Today, I went to the Secours Catholique Christmas party in Paris. Each year, they help thousands of polical refugees with, among other things, housing, food and legal advice. There was couscous, cakes, gifts and I don't know how many languages, cultures, religions and other views of the universe mingling coherently. There were Caribbean songs sung in French, a poem read in Bangladeshi, a traditional Indian dance that looked suspiciously like a Bollywood video clip and a group dance performance that went from calm gospel to the hip-moving World Cup theme song: Waka Waka (This Time for Africa).

It's the second time I've seen that group dance and the second time I've felt slightly embarrassed by the lump in my throat and the watery blurring of my eyes. Seeing people dance in front of others for all the right reasons -- joy, playfulness, curiousity, generosity and gratitude -- is a rare enough thing. And, though I'm always a bit shock by being deeply moved in public, isn't that what being in an audience should be about? Not succombing to manipulation, but releasing yourself into healthy, happy hands.

For three months, now, I've been dishing out my pyschedelic soup, and I started doubting my ability to convey anything helpful. But, today, I saw a group of dancers with little resources or training (or even a name for their group) get everyone dancing in their seats. It triggered the best in everyone. I thank them and the Secours Catholique for reminding me that, even when one community shuts the door, there are others who keep reaching out. They just ask you to keep on doing what moves you the deepest, and they have faith that it's the right thing for all.