¡Viva la Resistencia!

After being politely ignored by a blog promoting dance blogs, I've just had my posts wiped off a dance discussion board... Am I that radical?
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Maybe. After all, instead of writing cleanly -- about dance wear, the perfect gift for your dance teacher or costly competitions that will transmit the values of combativeness and expediency to impressionable children -- I'm making a mess trying to write about movement.

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Words set ideas down and movement always moves; the two worlds are hard to reconcile. When you try, you usually end up sounding vague or mashing together a bunch of metaphors, each one a facet, a point of view that just might, for someone, trigger something interesting. Urgggh! I know: it's unbearable to listen to!

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Luckily, there's other inspiration to be found out there.

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Today, I went to the Secours Catholique Christmas party in Paris. Each year, they help thousands of polical refugees with, among other things, housing, food and legal advice. There was couscous, cakes, gifts and I don't know how many languages, cultures, religions and other views of the universe mingling coherently. There were Caribbean songs sung in French, a poem read in Bangladeshi, a traditional Indian dance that looked suspiciously like a Bollywood video clip and a group dance performance that went from calm gospel to the hip-moving World Cup theme song: Waka Waka (This Time for Africa).

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It's the second time I've seen that group dance and the second time I've felt slightly embarrassed by the lump in my throat and the watery blurring of my eyes. Seeing people dance in front of others for all the right reasons -- joy, playfulness, curiousity, generosity and gratitude -- is a rare enough thing. And, though I'm always a bit shock by being deeply moved in public, isn't that what being in an audience should be about? Not succombing to manipulation, but releasing yourself into healthy, happy hands.

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For three months, now, I've been dishing out my pyschedelic soup, and I started doubting my ability to convey anything helpful. But, today, I saw a group of dancers with little resources or training (or even a name for their group) get everyone dancing in their seats. It triggered the best in everyone. I thank them and the Secours Catholique for reminding me that, even when one community shuts the door, there are others who keep reaching out. They just ask you to keep on doing what moves you the deepest, and they have faith that it's the right thing for all.

Out of Bounds

Keep your energy circulating. It can sound hippy-ish and vague. But, we all understand it when put a different way. Try this one: If you lift something heavy, make sure you bend your knees. Who doesn't understand that?
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We know that straight legs and a bent, flat back are dangerous when hoisting heavy. It cuts us in two. We know that if we squat down with our torso more erect, the push of our feet can go up through our back and connect with our arms. We know to push off harder for heavier objects and lighter for light.
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However, pushing harder doesn't necessarily mean better results. How is just as important as how much.
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When we were younger and had a less clear sense of self, our energy circulated differently. Babies, as we know, can grip a finger with an amazing amount of squeeze. And, yet, despite an almost brutish force, they just lie there, smiling and soft.
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Babies are also impressive when they just start to stand. For long minutes, they watch the world, calmly swaying with ease. They don't sink, slouch or shuffle their feet. Like little bamboo, they grow in two directions, with no clear sense of their highth or the ground. They're in a continuous state of reaching out. They haven't, yet, focused on their limits.
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When we push down to lift a heavy object, we tend to put a limit on our push. The ground starts here, so my push ends here is how we think. But, like a boxer punching further than his opponant's face, we need to push down further than the obvious place of contact. That way, the energy doesn't burst and dissipate quickly. That way, our muscles work all the way through the movement, connected and uncrinkled, and our intention stays vigorous from start to finish.
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Where's the finish? There, too, we should have no set idea. After all, the push moves up from legs to our back, then to arms and heavy object -- so it finishes somewhere out there. Somewhere well outside our body.
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Amplitude Exercise #1
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1) Find a wall and place the palm of both hands against it. Try to feel the contact in all fingers, in all parts. (That means a good dose of both relaxation and intention.) Stand close enough so that your elbows are bent, but don't lean into the wall. Feel the weight of your forearms and upper arms hanging there, like a hanging bridge, attached to two verticle surfaces and drooping in the middle.
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2) Now, imagine that the contact goes deeper. Imagine that you're feeling into the wall, somewhere inside or beyond it. Already, you may feel a difference in your body. If space opens in one direction, then space opens in the opposite direction. Can you feel your shoulder blades relaxing and becoming more mobile? By touching deeper into the wall, can you 'touch' your shoulder blades?
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3) Push gently into the wall with one hand, then the other. Keep your knees relaxed. Notice how far down your body the movement goes and how you sway from side to side. Can you feel a circuit opening up, from one shoulder blade down and around to the other?

Don't Worry. It's Just a Ph(r)ase.

A friend of mine, who recently immigrated from the Balkans, speaks English in a haphazardly creative way. Among his recent classics: I go now to the bank to buy some money. You know that story called Snow Witch? and You're always looking at my sweater... do you have a crush on it?
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Sometimes, wrong has a way of being right. If I stopped thinking of ATMs as friendly helpers, I'd certainly be better off at the end of the month. And, 'witch' seems fitting for Snow White, in a way. I've always thought she sent an extremely bad message to kids. Oh, a little house, with no one home... Maybe if I clean it up, they'll let me stay with them! Conniving suddenly seems more innocent than simply asking for help.

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Even the crush-thing -- which is flat wrong, on all levels -- gave me a thrill with its unexpected turn. My friend's English is improving rapidly, and I already regret the day when everything becomes straightforward.

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When you start experimenting with movement techniques, when you start letting your body reorganize itself differently, there's always something wrong about what's more right. After all, the old way is the norm. There's something soothing about it, even if that means more tension, more effort and, even, discomfort.

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In the past segment exercises, we started exploring the weight of our body segments. We felt how the hand, forearm and upper arm have their own distinct weight. At first, this new sense of weightiness can be a drag. New ways of functioning mean muscles working differently, which, in turn, means a new (although temporary) type of fatigue. It's only when we start experiencing the poetic side to it -- how weighty segments allow movement to pass from one part of the body to another, how the different parts can coordinate instinctively, how our minds can relax in a bath of sensations -- can we appreciate what we've taken on.

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In the past walking exercise, we started exploring how our walk can become more dynamic and design-oriented if we give up some control. Of course, giving up control when we walk means a newfound wobbliness. We lived it once, as toddlers, and often feel no need to go through that experience again. (Memories of booze, cold sweats and up-chucking might add to that reserve.) However, as we start to feel how our steps can massage our feet and legs and how that extra mobility can pass up through stiff hips, backs and neck, we begin to find charm in all that lack of composure.

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Vision Exercise #1

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1) Stand in an open space, looking forward. Tilt your head, slowly, from one side to the other. Ask yourself if, through some mental effort, you're not trying to keep the horizon horizontal, if you're not trying to keep order in the universe.

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2) As you tilt your head from one side to another, try to lessen your hold on the objects you see. Accept that, as you tilt to the left, they tilt to the right, and vice versa. The more they tilt, the more you relax in the neck. Let the tilting movement go further down, into your torso. Do this very calmly: there's no reason to fall over. Explore and don't forget the importance of comfort and amusement.

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3) Very carefully, try tilting your head slightly while taking a few steps. Do this in a safe place, every chance you get. Notice how your body can adapt, get used to and, even, enjoy a certain chaos. Can you feel any body parts coordinating instictively? Do you feel anything poetic or charming happening? Does your mind feel as though it no longer has to hold up the world?