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.
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| 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
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%
