"The only place where he is happy is on a dive, the deeper the better. "When I'm on the bottom everything is so right" Sitting alone on the bottom of the ocean I've witnessed the holy presence of God"
"You mean God like Jehova?"
He says, "No, I mean God like physics".
-The Pugilist at Rest, Thom Jones
Anybody that has spent much time with me knows that the body
is my bible. Pretty much all of my
spiritual development and much of any psychological progress I make comes from
what I learn from a long-term regular engagement with physical practice. The
struggles, triumphs, setbacks and failures of ‘dance life’ have provided me with all the
relevant metaphors for becoming a better human.
If you’ve ever rehearsed with me or indulged a movement geek out session
of mine you know I turn to lessons in technique how one turns to biblical
parables. Sometimes though, I get
disconnected from my practice, disconnected from my body, I lose myself. When I
find my way back it’s always with awe that I rediscover the wisdom embedded
within us. Everything I learn about my body correlates and supports everything
I need to know about living. Than I get so filled with gratitude to have
stumbled into a life path that enables a non-joining skeptic like me a way to
experience grace. So pardon me while I testify.
Last Sunday I went to a class called Dance Church at
Velocity Dance Center in Seattle, WA, USA taught by Kate Wallich. Its basically an all fun, all welcome
community cardio party. When I reached my aerobic euphoria state I remembered a
lesson that I’ve learned before. Dance
is the constant. The thing that can be relied upon. Jobs come and go, houses come and go, people
come and go, dance will always be there waiting if you want it. It doesn’t care if you’re broke, or broken,
or confused, or ugly, or even injured, the music, the breath, the movement is
free and yours for the taking. It is
there at anytime, to free you from yourself.
To free you from the world. To
remind you that you’re actually still alive and that’s pretty good.
Last night I shared a work for old and new friends at Studio
Current’s Saloon in Seattle, WA, USA. A friend and colleague described my work
in terms of a hurricane. There was chaos and in the center was me. She said that my work created a sensation
similar to when they eye of the storm passes over you. This is an amazing observation and a perfect metaphor for my
relationship to dance. Dance is the primary way I navigate the storms of
life. I truly do not think I would still
be alive today without dance. For
real. Life is hard and I’m a delicate
flower and honestly…. I’ve found myself in some crazy places, both within
myself and also out in the world. Dance
holds my hand and lifts me out of it and gives me a reason to go on. Dance is the eye of the storm. The world is heartbreak and chaos but dance
is that small window where everything settles and slows and you catch your
breath for the next fight.
Today I completed a 6 day course in the Gyrotonic Leg
Extension Unit. It was a struggle. I
have some real heartache in my life right now, grieving deeply and completely
adrift in life. I’ve been feeling broken, weak, inadequate. Going in every day
feeling small and powerless as I do and focusing in and tackling very difficult
physical tasks, at times even with the elegance I’ve spent my life working
towards, reminds me not only of the physical strength I possess but also of the
strength of my will. After completing
the course I feel I can do anything.
And now for the parable.
While I’ll be grieving what I’ve lost for some time, the chaos of my
recent life has subsided. I’m on the other side of the storm, but like a bird
I’m circling for dry land. Wondering if I should land somewhere known and
‘safe’ or if I should, even in my current fragile state continue as I have been
for sometime and travel further away from my home, continuing in new life
experiences vs nesting in the familiar. The
LEU machine is an amazing bit of equipment.
At first it took quite a lot for me to manage it. Many of my joints are a little too loose and
it is easy when working with my limbs extended against weight to feel as if
I’ll be pulled apart, and having had quite a few injuries, I like to feel my
joints solid and aligned. However, I’m also an artisan and I crave that full
extended expression of the length of my limbs at the max. Over the 6 day course
I eventually learned how to hold my bones in socket while also letting the
weights of the machine draw me into my fullest range of movement. This magnificent feeling of being completely
within oneself while also being completely extended past what I previously
perceived to be a safe and comfortable place to be. The parable. I’m emotionally stretched beyond
a place where I feel ok. I’m also soon
going to be leaving my ‘home’ to expand my world again in an unfamiliar
land. My fluid and explorative identity
has often taken me beyond the limits of myself.
Like dancing in the edge of your joints this is exhausting and wearing
to the spirit. Sometimes it blows out entirely.
But like the body that can learn to reach beyond itself while still
holding together, I think it’s possible that I can also learn to stay solid in
my heart, solid in myself while still extending my life past the boundaries of
what is reasonable and expected.
