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Bodies in motion are holy — period. That’s my truth and my reset button in a coronavirus world. It’s Janet tottering to the Chinese restaurant on her walker. It’s the UPS man bringing the day’s deliveries. It’s me boogeying to Motown in my kitchen as I make the third meal of a very long day for myself and my kid who quickly learned that one way to combat the lockdown blues was to make dance parties an evening ritual. I think God approves.