Weekend of Contact Improv

A few weekends ago I attended a Contact Improv Retreat. I had the delightful and rich experience of dancing with some people I know very minimally and dancing with complete strangers for the better part of two days.

We started with a "structured" class where the instructor, Yves, gave us some starting points to work with. We crawled, played with moving from low to upright positions. We then worked with partners, holding another's arm with our eyes closed while we let our partner lead us around. I found this exhilarating and frightening at the same time, especially when my partner pulled me while running. Flying, feeling air in my face, trusting my partner completely to make sure I didn't run into someone or something. And once that trust was there, just enjoying the ride.

Then the dance began. I danced for several hours, loved having so much room to work with, really taking up space and allowing myself to move uninhibited, dancing with people, pushing, pulling, flying, running, falling, rolling. Because of the vastness of the space we were in, I was able to be in perpetual motion for longer periods of time--to really see the flow through, to follow the momentum to its natural end, which was a new and liberating feeling.

I especially loved moving to the live music: a cello, piano and drums. Between the musicians and dancers, I was given such a rich tapestry of elements to play with and off of. Such an amazing experience that I didn't want to end.

I guess it's not news that physical contact with others can be healing. We know that babies need to be held, touched, even have skin-to-skin contact with their mother or caregiver to bond, to feel secure and to grow into empathetic adults. Giving a kid a hug can cure just about any minor ailment.

I think as adults, we forget how good connecting physically with another human being can be. We may enjoy that physical expression with our spouse or significant other (with or without the sexual component) or our children. We may hug our extended family or friends as a greeting or maybe hug someone we know is having a hard time.

But how often do we really take in those bits of affection, of connection, that we're getting? How often does it become simply obligatory or rote? While dancing in contact with others, there is tenderness, care, exploration, sensuality, playfulness and everything in between. Moments of stillness, many times taken when a position feels particularly restorative or comforting, allow time for one to really take in that connection. It is truly a beautiful practice.