Love Deeply Rooted in the body desires movement. It is a dynamic energy, always moving even in the deepest stillness.
Three weeks ago, I stepped back onto the ecstatic dance floor for the first time in over 6 years. Nervous. In physical pain through much of the body before I even started, wondering if that would eclipse the experience and a little angry at the timing of the pain.
I gave myself permission to sit and move from the sitting position as often as I needed to. The only rule I had was to be gentle with everything … which meant power through nothing. Oh and let the urge to compare and wish my body, my dance could look like theirs, let that urge move right on through me.
That is a tenet of my life these days. Be gentle with everything. Power through nothing.
Dance is one of the deepest forms of prayer for me.
It gets me out of my head and into my body.
I never fully understood what that meant until three weeks ago. Three weeks ago I felt the effects of it … viscerally.
Get out of my head, and it’s often non-stop thoughts and drop into the body. Drop deeply. Difficult when there is chronic constriction, or pain.
So, what happens when you drop in anyway, inspite of the constriction?
I’ve spent plenty of time going into the heart of the pain – whether it be physical, emotional, mental or spiritual – and getting stuck there for long spaces of time. That was not the focus of this dance practice.
This particular dance it turns out, was about experimenting with a focus on the feel good. Where in the body is the feel good in the midst of the pain constricting around itself. I’ve done that a lot over the past six years, that focus on what feels good. Now it was time to bring into the dance.
Noticing what I’m noticing.
Is it the feel good or the pain, then consciously moving into the feel good, staying with that as long as possible, simply aware.
I could move and stay in my head if I chose. I’ve noticed however, that judgment lives there and inhibits surrender to the body. And just for these two hours, I’d like to feel the sweetness of surrender.
The juice is in the last 30 minutes.
I understand now why I love the two hour blocks. The juice is in the last 30 minutes. For me this is where the mind is completely at the sweet mercy of the body, silenced, simply moving with the body instead of trying to direct it or figure out the next thing so it can be prepared.
And my body, in this particular last 30 minutes was awake, alert, and in deep bliss. It had moved in one form or another for the last almost two hours, and now, while most of the room was on the floor, all it wanted was to sway upright to the beat, One with the Divine, in deepest appreciation for movement, for breath, for being alive, for the gift of expression through movement, and mostly, mostly in appreciation for the gift of surrender into it. For the trust in its innate wisdom.
Thank You ~ Thank You ~ Thank You ~