My relationship to the world is a contact
improvisation.
How I use a space is affected by my
level of comfort with physical interaction. This is why I frequently misjudge
doorways and inadvertently hit my hip bones or shoulders on door frames. And why I often find myself in an opposing trajectory of oncoming pedestrians and inevitably imagine I am engaged in a square dance. "Do Si Do" I'll call out as our shoulders pass each other and we circle back to back.
It is why I preferred Twister and Hop
Scotch and jump rope, as a child, to board games which bored me silly.
I carried and maneuvered furniture
last week using my body's structure as scaffold and support. It was
something I learned to do at University when we'd carry, drag, and lean into other dancers, testing our strength and our trust.
The body is all about energy. The way that I hold myself tight or clench my
jaw is a visible manifestation of trying to brace myself against fear and
vulnerability. Conversely, freedom of movement speaks of comfort with self.
My movement energy comes in dance form, usually,
and sometimes as poses. Mountain pose feels grounded to me. A serpentine spine
reminds me to remain fluid through strength. Dancing with children is one of
the best aerobic thrills I can think of.
What does it mean to self-soothe? It means calming the body's reactive tensions.
To do this, one needs to know what level of activity or passivity allows the
body to let go.. It could mean breathing deeply and attending to one's spirit with
kindness. An easy sway. A soft waltz.
I love periods of solitude when I can
enjoy the magnificent quiet of the house. I've begun to chant, to om,
and to sing. At first the sound of my own voice breaking the silence startled
me. Then it emboldened me.
It is a remarkable and sometimes
difficult thing to keep one's own counsel. It is empowering to hear one's own voice
verbalize the problem, and it is humbling to ask the Power out there to
send signs of guidance. Sometimes, your
inner voice will tell you what you need to do.
It is possible to follow an
inclination or hunch in the same way we did in dance classes, following the
impulse to move according to what feels like it might work. Moving with and within my
environment tests my impromptu choreography; and asks me to go with my gut instincts.
When I am outdoors, in the weather,
noticing nature, I am drawn to the forms in flight. The local geese fly in patterns or at the
least, in pairs, synchronized with each other in graceful approaches. Hawks
returning after winter utilize my backyard power poles as perches. They glide
in circles around my air space and make precise and focused landings. I notice
the delicate steps deer take and delight in watching them trot tenderly on lean
legs, even as they cause trouble by eating foliage in front yards.
We chose to build a house in a small
town rather than a big city or a rural outpost. I suppose we wanted the
opportunity to create a network, an ideal neighborhood, a physical space that
was easy to navigate.
A big city might have more opportunity
for change, but a small town can have more potential for community, and
consequently, more need for conformity. It's a reasonable trade-off. Besides, we
like visitation by deer, hawks, hummingbirds, bees, and neighborhood cats.
A small town also has space for
privacy without necessary isolation. There are people moving in the space with
you and you can have as much contact as you want if you're willing to
interact. There was a time when my primary
interactions with other beings were conversations with coyotes, snakes,
scorpions, and owls. Now I walk down the street and people say, Hello. Sometimes
this takes me by surprise and, as I respond in kind, I feel uplifted just to
have a moment when I realize I am a member of humanity.
If I were to create an ideal
neighborhood for my body's need for balance, I would imagine a scene very
similar to my fantasy of Heaven. Enough peace and quiet for solitude, a library
for reading. Healthy food and clean water available. Plenty of girlfriends to
play and talk with. Plants and trees, stepping stones and bird baths to attract
all variety of wildlife except rodents. Raptors, which would help with rodent
control, would be especially welcome any time.
An ideal community would include worthy
newspapers delivered to the door. Trash and recycling picked up for me.
Neighbors who are pleasant and happy. Theaters available and easy accessibility.
Public transportation and bicycle paths. Some diversity to enliven spontaneous
conversation and encourage interesting friendships.
Deaf culture would be a part of that
diversity and be a welcome addition to community. Learning to sign was a
life-changer. Sign language communicates a depth of feeling through movement
and expression. This makes me love the
language and the people who use it.
An ideal home and neighborhood would prune
the family tree, removing any toxic branches, making the trunk and roots more
solid and healthy. The support network would be a family created by choice, including close friends who contribute humor
and camaraderie. The family of choice
would be multi-generational made up of maturians who can offer perspective as
well as young folk who bring energy and fresh skills.
Contact improvisation is not limited
to dancers, nor does it require music. It does, however, by its nature, require
full participation. It accepts the reality that interaction with environment, neighbors,
wildlife, even furniture and doorways, does not have to look pretty. Nor does
it have to work all the time comfortably. Sometimes participants drop each
other or trip over another's feet.
Sometimes things get awkward and everyone has to stop, regroup and start again.
Unless our time is up, we usually have the chance to try again at balance, mutual support, navigation, release, and even trust.
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