I recently became involved in a contact improv group that gets together to "jam". This consists of improvised dance between two or more partners who are sharing a point of contact the whole time. Not only are you touching, but you are experimenting with weight, momentum, physics. There is weight sharing, rolling, lifting.
There is something special about sharing dance with other people, especially in this context. Because it is improvised and because you are working with others, it requires you to really tune in to your body and your partner's, to respond to their movements, give your weight over to them and let them give their weight to you and the whole while, each taking responsibility for your own bodies.
I was struck at the last session just how much these dances reflect the ideal relationship. There are moments of give and take and there are moments of moving away and coming together. And most incredibly, there are moments where the two parties are giving and receiving at the same time by leaning into one another, neither one bearing more weight than the other but simply supporting each other. It is the sense of standing strong on one's own, while still providing and receiving support that makes it such a great model. It seems like such a beautiful example of a true partnership...autonomy and connection happening simultaneously.
How wonderful would it be to live in a world like that...supporting each other by leaning on each other. For me it's just another example of how extremes aren't necessary...opposites (giving/receiving) can happen at the same time, harmoniously.
Dancing in this way also reminds me of something I learned awhile ago about forming through resistance. In the womb, the baby grows and develops against the uterus of its mother. The uterus provides containment and resistance but still yields to the growing baby. In the same way, as we are dancing with the weight of our bodies against another's, I feel like we are growing spiritually, emotionally. Gently pushing against something or someone in a connected way allows us to expand ourselves and know ourselves in relation to others.
For more information on Contact Improv, go to: http://www.contactimprov.net/
Monday, March 29, 2010
Dance
When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a dancer. I'd dance in the living room, on my porch...I felt so beautiful when I moved. Free.
My mom took me to an audition at a dance company in downtown Chicago when I was about 8 years old. It did not go well. I couldn't make my body do what the instructor was asking. I was off rhythm, embarrassed by my lack of grace and coordination in the eyes of my "judges". What had seemed so natural and graceful, what had given me such joy, was now something I was failing at.
Taking ballet classes didn't do much for my confidence. The dancers were all thin and tall and didn't have breasts (something I had more than my share of from an early age). My feet didn't turn out like the others', no matter how much I tried to make them. But I still danced on my own, making up routines for my sister and her friends and dancing in the living room.
In college, I still wanted to dance but had given up on being a dancer. I accepted what I thought to be true at the time...that my body was not built for a dance career. Becoming a dance minor was the only way I could take all the dance classes I wanted to, so I took those classes, purely for my own enjoyment.
I took ballet, toe shoes and all (another disaster), jazz, tap and modern. It was the first time I'd ever taken a modern class. Each modern class was different, but I soon found that in general, this was a dance style that seemed to fit my body type. Most of the movements utilized gravity rather than defy it...the instructors encouraged us to use our weight and it felt wonderful.
I read "My Life" by Isadora Duncan and was so inspired by her, by the notion of dance coming from within and it seemed to reflect my own experience with and relationship to movement. Movement from within came so naturally while echoing someone else's movements often seemed awkward and foreign...something I could get "wrong."
I went years without dancing. It's hard to believe, now that I'm doing it again, that I could go so long without it. I have rediscovered my love of moving, of releasing into a dance... I have a dance studio above my garage where I can turn on music and simply move.
It is unfortunate that modern dance is not readily available to the public and that many of us have bought into the notion that only certain bodies can dance or be graceful. Perhaps, like me, people have watched a dance performance, a ballet or a show on television and been impressed with what those performers can do with their bodies. And we should be, it is impressive. But it is not the only way to experience dance. It is not the only form that can be admired. Watching someone truly in their body, enjoying their body and its rhythms, working with gravity but not being overtaken by it...there is beauty in that.
At an unschooling gathering last year I watched my friend's son perform a dance he had created. It was nothing you'd see on television...there were no recognizable, technical moves. But the movement was coming out of him and through him and his motions were remarkably fluid and he was responding with passion to a piece of music that he loved. It literally moved me to tears.
Art, in all its forms, should be accessible to everyone. We don't need to teach people how to create art...we need to be reminded of the dances, the songs, the pictures, the stories that we all have inside of us and be given opportunities to express them. Some people like to be given a vocabulary for that expression and that's okay, too. It's a start. And of course some bodies have limitations. Certainly some people are more in touch with their bodies and have a kinesthetic intelligence that enables them to do astounding things that are amazing to watch or to express things through movement that can't be put into words. And that truly is a gift.
For me, there is such joy in moving without restriction. Listening to a piece of music that evokes some emotion or that reflects how I'm feeling and being able let those feelings move through me in a physical way is exhilarating and healing.
One of my best friends once choreographed and performed a piece about an abusive relationship she'd been in. I'd never seen anger look so beautiful. The beauty was in the movement and it was in the face of my friend battling her demons.
Now I look at my physical limitations as a gift. If I had been gifted in ballet and all of the technical ability I wanted, I may have missed out on finding the dancer within. I may have become a dance performer and lost sight of the dance waiting to emerge from each person. Every person, no matter the size or shape. There is a reason I identified so much with Isadora Duncan's words and philosophy. They mirrored my experience.
The grounding nature of some of the modern vocabulary lends itself well to the average body. If I didn't have an average body, I might not have known that or been able to share it. And that is what I want to do...help people to love being in their bodies, dancing.
Free.
My mom took me to an audition at a dance company in downtown Chicago when I was about 8 years old. It did not go well. I couldn't make my body do what the instructor was asking. I was off rhythm, embarrassed by my lack of grace and coordination in the eyes of my "judges". What had seemed so natural and graceful, what had given me such joy, was now something I was failing at.
Taking ballet classes didn't do much for my confidence. The dancers were all thin and tall and didn't have breasts (something I had more than my share of from an early age). My feet didn't turn out like the others', no matter how much I tried to make them. But I still danced on my own, making up routines for my sister and her friends and dancing in the living room.
In college, I still wanted to dance but had given up on being a dancer. I accepted what I thought to be true at the time...that my body was not built for a dance career. Becoming a dance minor was the only way I could take all the dance classes I wanted to, so I took those classes, purely for my own enjoyment.
I took ballet, toe shoes and all (another disaster), jazz, tap and modern. It was the first time I'd ever taken a modern class. Each modern class was different, but I soon found that in general, this was a dance style that seemed to fit my body type. Most of the movements utilized gravity rather than defy it...the instructors encouraged us to use our weight and it felt wonderful.
I read "My Life" by Isadora Duncan and was so inspired by her, by the notion of dance coming from within and it seemed to reflect my own experience with and relationship to movement. Movement from within came so naturally while echoing someone else's movements often seemed awkward and foreign...something I could get "wrong."
I went years without dancing. It's hard to believe, now that I'm doing it again, that I could go so long without it. I have rediscovered my love of moving, of releasing into a dance... I have a dance studio above my garage where I can turn on music and simply move.
It is unfortunate that modern dance is not readily available to the public and that many of us have bought into the notion that only certain bodies can dance or be graceful. Perhaps, like me, people have watched a dance performance, a ballet or a show on television and been impressed with what those performers can do with their bodies. And we should be, it is impressive. But it is not the only way to experience dance. It is not the only form that can be admired. Watching someone truly in their body, enjoying their body and its rhythms, working with gravity but not being overtaken by it...there is beauty in that.
At an unschooling gathering last year I watched my friend's son perform a dance he had created. It was nothing you'd see on television...there were no recognizable, technical moves. But the movement was coming out of him and through him and his motions were remarkably fluid and he was responding with passion to a piece of music that he loved. It literally moved me to tears.
Art, in all its forms, should be accessible to everyone. We don't need to teach people how to create art...we need to be reminded of the dances, the songs, the pictures, the stories that we all have inside of us and be given opportunities to express them. Some people like to be given a vocabulary for that expression and that's okay, too. It's a start. And of course some bodies have limitations. Certainly some people are more in touch with their bodies and have a kinesthetic intelligence that enables them to do astounding things that are amazing to watch or to express things through movement that can't be put into words. And that truly is a gift.
For me, there is such joy in moving without restriction. Listening to a piece of music that evokes some emotion or that reflects how I'm feeling and being able let those feelings move through me in a physical way is exhilarating and healing.
One of my best friends once choreographed and performed a piece about an abusive relationship she'd been in. I'd never seen anger look so beautiful. The beauty was in the movement and it was in the face of my friend battling her demons.
Now I look at my physical limitations as a gift. If I had been gifted in ballet and all of the technical ability I wanted, I may have missed out on finding the dancer within. I may have become a dance performer and lost sight of the dance waiting to emerge from each person. Every person, no matter the size or shape. There is a reason I identified so much with Isadora Duncan's words and philosophy. They mirrored my experience.
The grounding nature of some of the modern vocabulary lends itself well to the average body. If I didn't have an average body, I might not have known that or been able to share it. And that is what I want to do...help people to love being in their bodies, dancing.
Free.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Creative Destruction
Driving in the car the other day, out of the blue, my 7-year-old son said to me, "So, basically, life is like a long dream and when you die, you wake up."
"What made you say that, honey?" I asked him
"I've just been thinking about it," he replied, "I don't think people go to a great place when they die. That's just stupid."
"Well," I said, "everyone has different beliefs about what happens when you die. And it's not stupid for people to believe it. They're actually just trying to find a way to cope with something that is scary and sad for them. That's not stupid, that's smart. They're giving themselves comfort."
"What's so scary and sad about dying?" Ari asked. "You just get a new life."
Death and destruction are an integral part of the life cycle. Seems obvious, yet we spend so much time trying to avoid it. What we eat, how we live...we run from death, some people more than others. I have always been afraid and disdainful of destruction. I do everything in my power to nurture, to preserve. I'm anti-war, I'm a vegetarian...I never really appreciated the element of destruction. I never wanted to acknowledge the destructive power in myself.
When my son was about 4 years old, he was playing with his wooden train set . He placed train pieces opposite from each other and said something about one train killing or destroying the other one. My initial reaction was discomfort. I wanted to chastise him for enjoying the pretend act of destruction. But I caught myself because I realized that it was a normal thing for a child, particularly a boy, to want to express. I didn't want to make him feel bad about the completely natural aspect to his being.
Creation and destruction are parts of us, whether we want to acknowledge both in ourselves or not. It is only in destroying something that we make room for the new. If we look at the world around us, even as something is being created, another is being destroyed and vice versa.
It is the cycle of life...as the leaves die and fall off the trees, they are creating the fertile ground for new seedlings to thrive. Plants that we think of as weeds have all sorts of healing properties, yet they choke out the "desirable" plants, ones that are prettier to look at. We want to always see beauty and we don't always see the beauty in things that are destructive.
It isn't that destruction is bad... it's that when destruction and creation are out of balance there is a problem and the way in which destruction manifests or the way in which people choose to express their destructive energy is the part that can be ugly. Killing another person, destroying someone or something (literally or figuratively) for destruction's sake or doing so without balance or consciousness serves no purpose. But accepting the natural process of destruction as part of our world and part of ourselves can bring us one step closer to integrating the creative and destructive elements in both.
That is what I am after, what I am seeking...to integrate, to blend both of these extremes into one harmonious energy, a united being. In order to do that, I have embraced the destructive power in myself. The only way I can do that is to know that I am creating in the process of destroying and to be clear on what that is. Getting a "new life" as Ari would say or maybe just a new me. It's not always easy to actualize, especially being human and having so many attachments and feelings about change and others' reactions to our changing.
I think we do ourselves a disservice by running from death, from the darkness, from all that is "bad". I believe balance only can come by accepting these things as part of life, as part of us. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. This is life. This is us. Maybe it doesn't have to be...maybe there is a way for them to be truly one force, creation and destruction living not at two ends of a spectrum but within each other. But if we only choose one of these, whichever one that is, there will always be the other extreme. We can't run from it, we can't ignore it or detach from it. It will find us...as an individual, as a society, as a planet.
"What made you say that, honey?" I asked him
"I've just been thinking about it," he replied, "I don't think people go to a great place when they die. That's just stupid."
"Well," I said, "everyone has different beliefs about what happens when you die. And it's not stupid for people to believe it. They're actually just trying to find a way to cope with something that is scary and sad for them. That's not stupid, that's smart. They're giving themselves comfort."
"What's so scary and sad about dying?" Ari asked. "You just get a new life."
Death and destruction are an integral part of the life cycle. Seems obvious, yet we spend so much time trying to avoid it. What we eat, how we live...we run from death, some people more than others. I have always been afraid and disdainful of destruction. I do everything in my power to nurture, to preserve. I'm anti-war, I'm a vegetarian...I never really appreciated the element of destruction. I never wanted to acknowledge the destructive power in myself.
When my son was about 4 years old, he was playing with his wooden train set . He placed train pieces opposite from each other and said something about one train killing or destroying the other one. My initial reaction was discomfort. I wanted to chastise him for enjoying the pretend act of destruction. But I caught myself because I realized that it was a normal thing for a child, particularly a boy, to want to express. I didn't want to make him feel bad about the completely natural aspect to his being.
Creation and destruction are parts of us, whether we want to acknowledge both in ourselves or not. It is only in destroying something that we make room for the new. If we look at the world around us, even as something is being created, another is being destroyed and vice versa.
It is the cycle of life...as the leaves die and fall off the trees, they are creating the fertile ground for new seedlings to thrive. Plants that we think of as weeds have all sorts of healing properties, yet they choke out the "desirable" plants, ones that are prettier to look at. We want to always see beauty and we don't always see the beauty in things that are destructive.
It isn't that destruction is bad... it's that when destruction and creation are out of balance there is a problem and the way in which destruction manifests or the way in which people choose to express their destructive energy is the part that can be ugly. Killing another person, destroying someone or something (literally or figuratively) for destruction's sake or doing so without balance or consciousness serves no purpose. But accepting the natural process of destruction as part of our world and part of ourselves can bring us one step closer to integrating the creative and destructive elements in both.
That is what I am after, what I am seeking...to integrate, to blend both of these extremes into one harmonious energy, a united being. In order to do that, I have embraced the destructive power in myself. The only way I can do that is to know that I am creating in the process of destroying and to be clear on what that is. Getting a "new life" as Ari would say or maybe just a new me. It's not always easy to actualize, especially being human and having so many attachments and feelings about change and others' reactions to our changing.
I think we do ourselves a disservice by running from death, from the darkness, from all that is "bad". I believe balance only can come by accepting these things as part of life, as part of us. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. This is life. This is us. Maybe it doesn't have to be...maybe there is a way for them to be truly one force, creation and destruction living not at two ends of a spectrum but within each other. But if we only choose one of these, whichever one that is, there will always be the other extreme. We can't run from it, we can't ignore it or detach from it. It will find us...as an individual, as a society, as a planet.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
A good friend of mine pointed out a sign a little while ago. It was in front of an insurance company and it read "Life is unpredictable….be prepared for it." She got such a kick out of that and so did I. You can't be prepared for the impermanence of things. I suppose in a financial sense you can be, but on a larger scale there's no way. I think that's why people feel the need to be prepared in a physical or financial way for the future. Because it's the only thing that they can control, at least to a certain extent.
Change is inevitable. If there's one thing you can predict it's that things will fluctuate, move, evolve, dissolve and evolve again. Everything changes. The weather, tastes, seasons, societal norms, relationships….it all changes. Sometimes the change is so slow that we can't see it happening but it's happening all the same. And if we're lucky, we change, too. Hopefully, we as individuals are growing and evolving from the inside out. But in changing, we sometimes find we don't fit into the life that we started out with because we're not completely the same person anymore.
When you change, or rather when the real you emerges, it can be hard for the people around you because they're used to you being a certain way….whoever you were when your relationship was formed. If you're someone who has always been a giver, someone who is constantly trying to please everyone else and accommodating their needs with little or no regard for your own and then you suddenly find your voice, find your ability to say "no", it can come as a shock. Or if you've always been the fun, go-with-the-flow person and you discover or get in touch with the deeper, more serious side of yourself, those around you may have trouble accepting these changes. People in our lives are often invested in our remaining the same because change or growth often feels threatening to them. They can interpret that change as judgment or as a sign that your connection to them is no longer needed or valid.
I've been thinking about that a lot...personal changes, finding that authentic self and how that works within a relationship. Certainly it's possible to grow into yourself, to change and to stay connected to loved ones in the midst of it, especially if those people are willing to accept and appreciate the new or rather, authentic, you. But sometimes the nature of those relationships change, even while there is still connection. And this can be just as difficult to adjust to, especially if the parties involved don't want the same things from the relationship.
Knowing that things change, it makes me wonder about traditional marriage. Clearly, when I got married I anticipated it would last forever. I married someone who was my friend as well as my lover, also knowing that romantic love changes and sometimes fades and that choosing a partner means choosing someone who you can connect with on many levels. I never understood people who got divorced during a rough patch in their relationship. That's what the commitment part is for, right? To work through problems, tough it out, knowing that it's temporary? I knew that relationships changed...what I didn't realize was how much I would change.
Real change is scary. The man who I married is a beautiful, loving, exceptional person. He has given me more than a person could ask for and I love him. But I am not the same person I was when we married. There are elements that are the same, sure. Maybe a lot. But there is more now, more of the authentic me and that has changed the relationship. It doesn't mean there is no love there...it doesn't mean that anyone has done anything wrong or that we don't have a strong connection or that we can't get along. But it is not the same relationship that we entered and it may not be the relationship of a husband and wife. Being authentic means being honest enough to admit that, no matter how difficult or painful it may be.
I think marriage, in some ways, is another way to find a sense of stability, of safety in a world that is in constant flux. Because people should change, they should evolve, they should emerge...and people don't always do so in the same way or move in the same direction. Being married means you have to move in the same direction...or at least the same general direction. How can you both be true to self if authentically, you want to move in different directions? And moving towards the unknown on your own, especially when the known is comfortable and safe, is quite intimidating.
Of course, there is some amount of compromise that has to happen if you have children. You can't go in a direction that takes you away from them because they do need to feel connected to you and I think they need to feel a connection between their parents, even if it's only in a familial way. But I believe they can adapt to change if those things are constant.
There are all kinds of families and relationships nowadays. I met a woman recently who is in a polyamorous relationship, which means that she has more than one loving, committed relationship. I know of another woman who has two husbands and they are a family, raising their kids together. My understanding is that these relationships only work if all parties are completely open and honest about their feelings. Communication is key. It may seem outrageous to some people, but if one person doesn't fulfill your needs in a partner and it works for everyone involved, I think it makes sense. Especially when half of all marriages end in divorce and the main reason is infidelity.
If you look at nature, there are all kinds of examples to observe. Some animals mate for life. Others have many partners. In certain whale species, the males have one mate but they only come around to breed while the women care for the young. If there are so many variations in the animal world, why do we think a traditional marriage is the only kind of family to have?
Humans want guarantees....we want security and promises and forevers. And there is comfort in that, surely. But there are also great things that come from change, that come from being in the now, being fully conscious and aware of where you're at and who you are. If you're open to it, each relationship that you have has the potential to bring you closer to your authentic self, to provide the opportunity for growth that you need to move to the next level of knowing, maybe the next relationship. Through it all, being connected to self can be the stability, can be the safety and comfort.
I think love is a beautiful thing. Sharing a life with someone is a beautiful thing. Growing old with someone is a beautiful thing. But I think you have to be in touch with your authentic self , (as does your partner (s)) in order to find the right person and be content in that scenario. Because sharing a life should come not from obligation or need but from true connection and enjoyment. At least that's my idealistic take on it.
Change is inevitable. If there's one thing you can predict it's that things will fluctuate, move, evolve, dissolve and evolve again. Everything changes. The weather, tastes, seasons, societal norms, relationships….it all changes. Sometimes the change is so slow that we can't see it happening but it's happening all the same. And if we're lucky, we change, too. Hopefully, we as individuals are growing and evolving from the inside out. But in changing, we sometimes find we don't fit into the life that we started out with because we're not completely the same person anymore.
When you change, or rather when the real you emerges, it can be hard for the people around you because they're used to you being a certain way….whoever you were when your relationship was formed. If you're someone who has always been a giver, someone who is constantly trying to please everyone else and accommodating their needs with little or no regard for your own and then you suddenly find your voice, find your ability to say "no", it can come as a shock. Or if you've always been the fun, go-with-the-flow person and you discover or get in touch with the deeper, more serious side of yourself, those around you may have trouble accepting these changes. People in our lives are often invested in our remaining the same because change or growth often feels threatening to them. They can interpret that change as judgment or as a sign that your connection to them is no longer needed or valid.
I've been thinking about that a lot...personal changes, finding that authentic self and how that works within a relationship. Certainly it's possible to grow into yourself, to change and to stay connected to loved ones in the midst of it, especially if those people are willing to accept and appreciate the new or rather, authentic, you. But sometimes the nature of those relationships change, even while there is still connection. And this can be just as difficult to adjust to, especially if the parties involved don't want the same things from the relationship.
Knowing that things change, it makes me wonder about traditional marriage. Clearly, when I got married I anticipated it would last forever. I married someone who was my friend as well as my lover, also knowing that romantic love changes and sometimes fades and that choosing a partner means choosing someone who you can connect with on many levels. I never understood people who got divorced during a rough patch in their relationship. That's what the commitment part is for, right? To work through problems, tough it out, knowing that it's temporary? I knew that relationships changed...what I didn't realize was how much I would change.
Real change is scary. The man who I married is a beautiful, loving, exceptional person. He has given me more than a person could ask for and I love him. But I am not the same person I was when we married. There are elements that are the same, sure. Maybe a lot. But there is more now, more of the authentic me and that has changed the relationship. It doesn't mean there is no love there...it doesn't mean that anyone has done anything wrong or that we don't have a strong connection or that we can't get along. But it is not the same relationship that we entered and it may not be the relationship of a husband and wife. Being authentic means being honest enough to admit that, no matter how difficult or painful it may be.
I think marriage, in some ways, is another way to find a sense of stability, of safety in a world that is in constant flux. Because people should change, they should evolve, they should emerge...and people don't always do so in the same way or move in the same direction. Being married means you have to move in the same direction...or at least the same general direction. How can you both be true to self if authentically, you want to move in different directions? And moving towards the unknown on your own, especially when the known is comfortable and safe, is quite intimidating.
Of course, there is some amount of compromise that has to happen if you have children. You can't go in a direction that takes you away from them because they do need to feel connected to you and I think they need to feel a connection between their parents, even if it's only in a familial way. But I believe they can adapt to change if those things are constant.
There are all kinds of families and relationships nowadays. I met a woman recently who is in a polyamorous relationship, which means that she has more than one loving, committed relationship. I know of another woman who has two husbands and they are a family, raising their kids together. My understanding is that these relationships only work if all parties are completely open and honest about their feelings. Communication is key. It may seem outrageous to some people, but if one person doesn't fulfill your needs in a partner and it works for everyone involved, I think it makes sense. Especially when half of all marriages end in divorce and the main reason is infidelity.
If you look at nature, there are all kinds of examples to observe. Some animals mate for life. Others have many partners. In certain whale species, the males have one mate but they only come around to breed while the women care for the young. If there are so many variations in the animal world, why do we think a traditional marriage is the only kind of family to have?
Humans want guarantees....we want security and promises and forevers. And there is comfort in that, surely. But there are also great things that come from change, that come from being in the now, being fully conscious and aware of where you're at and who you are. If you're open to it, each relationship that you have has the potential to bring you closer to your authentic self, to provide the opportunity for growth that you need to move to the next level of knowing, maybe the next relationship. Through it all, being connected to self can be the stability, can be the safety and comfort.
I think love is a beautiful thing. Sharing a life with someone is a beautiful thing. Growing old with someone is a beautiful thing. But I think you have to be in touch with your authentic self , (as does your partner (s)) in order to find the right person and be content in that scenario. Because sharing a life should come not from obligation or need but from true connection and enjoyment. At least that's my idealistic take on it.
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