Slap the Apology from Your Posture...

This poem has been going around Facebook for a few weeks, along with the accompanying photo, but it speaks so clearly to me about the primal power of dance, and women's dances in particular, to be transformative -- for the audience AND the dancer.

Photo credit: Chad Faith

We have come to be danced

Not the pretty dance

Not the pretty pretty, pick me, pick me dance

But the claw our way back into the belly 

Of the sacred, sensual animal dance 

The unhinged, unplugged, cat is out of its box dance

The holding the precious moment in the palms

of our hands and feet dance.

We have come to be danced

Not the jiffy booby, shake your booty for him dance

But the wring the sadness from our skin dance 

The blow the chip off our shoulder dance. 

The slap the apology from our posture dance. 

We have come to be danced

Not the monkey see, monkey do dance

One two dance like you 

One two three, dance like me dance 

But the grave robber, tomb stalker 

Tearing scabs and scars open dance 

The rub the rhythm raw against our soul dance. 

We have come to be danced

Not the nice, invisible, self-conscious shuffle

But the matted hair flying, voodoo mama shaman shaking ancient bones dance 

The strip us from our casings, return our wings 

sharpen our claws and tongues dance 

The shed dead cells and slip into the luminous skin of love dance. 

We have come to be danced

Not the hold our breath and wallow in the shallow 

end of the floor dance but the meeting of the trinity: 

the body, breath and beat dance 

The shout hallelujah from the top of our thighs dance

The mother may I? Yes you may take ten giant leaps dance

The olly olly oxen free free free dance 

The everyone can come to our heaven dance. 

We have come to be danced

Where the kingdoms collide

In the cathedral of flesh

To burn back into the light 

To unravel, to play, to fly, to pray 

To root in skin sanctuary 

We have come to be danced! We have come.” 

~ by Jewel Mathieson

from her book "This Dance: A Poultice of Poems" (jewelmathieson.blogspot.com)

I am in love with the imagery in this piece -- the way the poem calls out all the energy, self-confidence, attitude, strength and self-knowledge that comes from dancing, if you let it, if you stop doing "the nice, invisible, self-conscious shuffle" and shout hallelujah from the top of your thighs instead.

We had a workshop for students interested in being involved with our student troupe yesterday and I watched these young women work very hard, concentrating on reconnecting with movement that no longer feels natural to them -- the way hips move up when you shift your weight, or back when you take a step. We in the West are so tight in our hips, so locked in, many of us have lost touch with the simple sway, curve and bounce that happens when we walk. The movement becomes tentative, and our posture along with it. Once we reconnect with that natural rhythm of the body in simply walking in time to music, we are already dancing. The rest is just window dressing. But it doesn't look like dance until you slap the apology from your posture, hold your head up and your shoulders back, and own the space you occupy with all the pride you can possibly muster.

At that point, the body becomes merely a vessel for the spirit that is you, shining through. And 15 or 30 or 60 or 100 "extra" pounds doesn't matter in the least.

Progress report:
Combo 1, step 1: eating with empty hands -- 75%
Combo 1, step 2: chewing completely -- 85%
Combo 1, step 3: small bites -- 85%