I just spent 3 and 1/2 days dancing at a dance jam event and felt the essence of myself in the most relieving way. Something about moving without talking, and moving all day long, and channeling all my feelings through my body. Reality profoundly shifts when the body is in the lead. Time expands and I feel that I am no longer waiting for life to happen.
I realized recently that a part of me is always waiting for something. In the back of mind, waiting. For what? To be held, to feel safe, to be loved, to be present, to relax, to LET DOWN. It’s like constantly waiting for a vacation. A lifetime of hyper-vigilance is a force all unto itself and often, there is no off button. And it becomes normal and unconscious. Waiting, waiting.
Ultimately, I think I’m waiting for the Mother. My Mother. A Mother. Waiting for her to come get me out of the crib, to hold me, to see me, to give to me, to fill me up with love. My Mother didn’t do any of that and so part of me is still waiting. It’s a kind of hell realm.
But when I dance or make art or do other sensual or body-centered things, I arrive. I get lost in sensation, in expression, in aliveness. It helps so much that I dance with other people who sometimes roll over my body and compress my bones, muscles, organs, making me feel my edges. I breathe, I close my eyes, I sense, I unravel, I find impulses to move, to rest, to make sounds, to sing, to push, to grab, to go crazy in the best way. I forget to defend myself. I open.
Life force is really very delicious. When you allow it, it’s sweet. It’s powerful. It’s loving. Life force is a pounding river and a quiet eddy. It’s a peaceful flow and an explosion of desire. Life force is always ready to move if we let it and that is no small order.
I am committed to recognizing what is blocking my life force and to cultivating practices that MOVE it through.
When I am in my pure, primal energy, I want to live. I am living. I am.