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While searching my other, mostly private blog the other day, I came across a survey I had taken when I joined a group called “Happy ‘n’ Healthy.” It was a great little community in which we talked about yoga/meditation/exercise, eating right, and simply enjoying life’s little pleasures (kind of the gist of my current blog!). Unfortunately, not too many people joined in, and the group slowly moved toward inactivity.
Anyway, I though it would be fun to post the survey here and compare my answers from then (June 2005) to now (nearly 6 years later). (Crap, has it really been that long?)
1a. If you practice yoga, which asana is your physical favorite, for its over-all health benefits?
2005: Twists and forward bends always help with my digestion ;-), but I do love chaturanga dandasana, because it has made my upper body and arms so strong!
2011: Hands down, the pose I do most often for pain relief is supta matsyendrasana. Sometimes when my sacrum locks up, this pose will get my back to ::pop, pop, pop:: and everything goes back into place. The before-and-after of doing this pose is a difference between total discomfort and absolute relief. And since it’s a twist, it helps with the digestion too!
Image courtesy About.com
1b. Which asana do you get the most spiritual/peaceful feeling and benefits from?
2005: Dancer’s pose. I love when I hit it right on the money and could stand there for hours. I feel so strong.
2011: Extended side angle. There are so many things going on in this pose; everything is engaged and active, and I feel like I’m giving my body total, 100% attention. The spine twists, my head turns toward the sky, my upper hand extends into the infinite, and I usually place my lower hand into jnana mudra so I can deepen the connection.
Image courtesy of iYogaLife
2. What food do you love to eat and you just feel so good after consuming it?
2005: Kashi’s Go Lean cereal, with bananas and raisins and/or fresh strawberries. I eat a bowl of that for breakfast almost every day, and it has enough protein and fiber to jump-start my day.
2011: OK, let my start off by saying that I LOVE cold cereal and I still start off most days with a bowl of Kashi Go Lean, but the food that feels even more nourishing is a bowl of hot oatmeal, the old-fashioned kind, that takes more than a minute to cook. I’ll mix in a tablespoon of peanut butter, some kind of fruit butter, raisins, either half a banana (adding halfway during the cooking process) or apple chunks, and sprinkle the finished product with some Kashi GoLean Crunch (yes, I top cereal with cereal).
3a. What non-fiction book completely changed your life in the positive?
2005: Fast Food Nation, by Eric Schlosser. It made me swear off fast food forever (though I do still get salads and parfaits from McDonald’s). 😦 Nickel and Dimed was also a valuable insight into the working poor and stopped me from ever shopping at Wal*Mart EVER again.
2011: I’m happy to say that I don’t eat at McDonald’s anymore. And although I’m not a regular at Wal*Mart, I have had to make emergency stops there for cold medicine, greeting cards, and a kid’s tugboat toy (don’t ask). But–back to the book question–the book is no doubt Sweat Your Prayers by Gabrielle Roth, founder of the 5Rhythms movement/dance modality. Everything I have ever felt about dancing is reinforced in this book, and it opened my eyes to a form of dancing that so perfectly follows the natural rhythms of the human persona and the natural world. When you read the first chapter of a book enthusiastically shouting “Yes! Yes! So true! YES!,” it’s a good sign that the book is going to impact you in a positive way.
3b. What fiction book?
2005: It didn’t change my life, but I love Daphne DuMaurier’s Rebecca. At first it looks like a romance, but then it takes a completely different turn…!
2011: Paulo Coelho’s The Witch of Portobello, about a mysterious girl who loves to dance but others are intrigued and sometimes frightened by the intensity of her moves and mental states when she’s engaged in the act, leading the community to treat her like a witch. I hope no one sees me as a witch, but there is a bit of self-consciousness when I break out into dance in the park or parking lot (which has happened before).
4. Which website do you like to go to for inspiration of any kind? ie: artistic, spiritual, wellness etc…
2005: I get an email every day from DailyOM, and I also regularly visit Yoga Journal’s site. A lot of my online blogging friends are very artistic, so just reading their posts is inspirational.
2011: What a coincidence, because today I just stumbled upon the websites Makes Me Think and its cousin, What Money Cannot Buy, in which readers post short snippets about experiences that really made them think and little things in life that bring satisfaction, respectively. And, as I did 6 years ago, the place I go most often for inspiration is to other people’s blogs, my favorites being the YIOM community and Spirit Moves Dance.
5. Which movie nourishes your soul?
2005: Love Actually. The beginning and end of that movie, the Heathrow Airport scenes, always make me cry. I just love seeing all of those people hug and kiss and embrace each other. It makes me want to visit my nearest airport and watch all the arrivals!
2011: I still love Love Actually, and it’s my and Bryan’s traditional Christmas movie. However, I have to add a bunch of Pixar movies to this answer, including Up, Wall•E, and Toy Story 3, as well as Disney’s Lilo & Stitch. These four movies hit me in the gut, and I feel happy and sad at once and can’t even watch the opening credits without tearing up and wanting to grab a stuffed animal, crawl under some blankets, and cuddle Bryan to death. Confession: I got teary-eyed just writing this response.
6. If you could only recommend one tea for someone to try, which would it be?
2005: Stash’s Creme Caramel Decaf is great with a little bit of milk.
2011: I’m only a tea drinker in the middle of winter on dark, cold nights, but I bought this orange chocolate stuff from the The Vitamin Shoppe last year, and it was pretty damn amazing.
7. What kind of art work/creative outlet do you do when your spirit needs lifting?
2005: Dancing! I come from a dance background (ballet, jazz, modern, hip hop), so I always need to blast the stereo and just MOVE without inhibition. I’m known for just breaking out in grocery store aisles and parking lots!
2011: Ditto!
8. If you do strength-training, what is your favorite exercise or part of the body to work?
2005: My arms. They show the most (especially in the summer), so I like when they look strong and powerful.
2011: Same answer. My arms are easy to tone, and now more than ever it’s important to keep them strong so I don’t injure my shoulders when swimming. My favorite strengthening exercise is the wood chopper with a medicine ball.
9. If you practice mantras/prayers/chants, while meditating or out walking, which ones help you the most?
2005: I haven’t incorporated mantras, etc into my lifestyle yet.
2011: Oh, 24-year-old Jennifer, you just wait! Thanks to kundalini yoga, I chant Sat Nam when stuck in traffic or repeat it silently in my head when meditating. And I swear chanting “Om Namah Shivaya” while drumming in my living room got me my current job back in 2007.
Image courtesy TheRainforestSite.com
10. Who are your role models/gurus for living a peaceful, centered, well-rounded life?
2005: My three main yoga teachers are by far the most inspirational people. I see them every week, and they always have me exit the studio feeling like a better person. They know exactly when to push and when to lay off. Also, my friend Cristin is so vibrant, so her personality is always a boost when I’m around her. One more person … my coworker, Carrol, who is THE most positive person I’ve ever met. Nothing “bad” ever happens in her life because she sees everything as a learning experience. Whenever there’s a problem or crisis at the office, she never freaks out. I admire her outlook immensely!
2011: Carrol, my “old lady friend” as she calls herself, is still a pretty darn inspirational and optimistic woman. And I admire my coworker Amanda for her connectedness to nature and the earth, the way she gardens, raises milking goats, tends to a greenhouse, and finds so much joy in her kitties and golden retriever.
"Old lady friend" Carrol
So those are my answers. Anyone else want to play?!?!?! If you complete the survey on your blog, be sure to comment here so I know where to look!
There is no better time for early-morning walks than this time of year. Each morning the sun rises a smidgen sooner, and there is something so satisfying about standing in the bathroom at 5:20 a.m., brushing my teeth in the faint glow of the sky starting to illuminate without the need to flip on the light. The sun is my beacon, and as soon as it starts to rise, I feel like an anxious kid who needs to get outside an plaaaaay already.
I have been sleeping past my normal wake time this week and thus haven’t had a chance to fit in a walk with all of my other morning prep rituals, but yesterday (and today) I was up in time. However, once I was up and stretching and preparing my lunch and stirring the coconut milk creamer in my coffee, I decided to switch things up and leave the house for work 30 minutes early and stop at a nearby park, to do my walk immediately before going into the office. That way, instead of going right from sitting in my car to sitting at my desk, I could come into the office fresh from a sunny walk!
Yesterday morning was just the epitome of a beautiful spring day. Temps in the low 60s, white puffy clouds among a bright blue sky, birds chirping, planes descending into the nearby airport, and cows (regular one, not those punkish Scottish Highland ones) from the adjacent farm mooing. A quick 20-minute walk in surroundings like that–plus my coffee and a bowl of Kashi Go Lean with fresh strawberries at my desk–was a great way to start the work day. (Note: I did the same routine today but it was overcast and not as Disney-esque. And I needed a jacket.)
Speaking of walking, I recently realized that I am obsessed with watching other people walk. Like, really watch them walk. I don’t know if it’s the dancer in me, the fact that I practice yoga and understand the art of good posture, or that I have so many issues myself with my feet and hips, but when I’m walking around the mall or downtown or behind someone at work on their way to the bathroom, my eyes immediately zone into their feet, hips, and back, and not in a “Wowee-wow-wow, look at those Shakira hips!” way but in a “Wow, those high heels are making your ankles collapse in, and your shoulders are all hunched up by your ears! You’re going to be in so much pain when you get older!” way (says the wise, knowledgeable 30-year-old).
Maybe in my former lifetime I was a salesperson at a specialty running store and watched people’s gaits for a living and determined whether they were pronators, supinators, or neutrals. But seriously, I love looking at feet. (I recently declared to my husband that I should have been a podiatrist…to which I responded, “Ahh, nevermind. Then I’d have to clip old people’s toenails.”)
I was horrified last weekend when we were walking through town and I noticed a woman in front of us wearing those damn Shape-Ups. With each step she took, the woman’s ankles were completely rolling in. It was so significant that even my husband, who doesn’t care in the least about other people’s biomechanics, noticed. Just another reason why I think Shape-Ups are the Devil’s sneakers.
All the time, I see people running with the most awkward strides and foot motions, and I feel the need to comment (to myself, of course. Or my husband). One time we passed a guy with a knee jutting out, his foot all floppy, and his torso all loosey-goosey. “How is it that he’s not in physical therapy every day?!” I asked incredulously. “Just wait!”
On the flip side, my heart flutters when I see someone with perfect posture and balance. Take the famous yoga teacher Angela Farmer:
She was a presenter when I was at Kripalu; I didn’t take any of her classes, but just passing her in the hallway was satisfying enough for me. Angela was as poised as a Greek goddess, her body practically floating down the corridors. Even the way she lifted her hands at the cafeteria buffet was a dance, each finger curling and extending with the most graceful act of mindfulness. It wasn’t pretentious either—not the least bit of “holier than thou” attitude. It was pure elegance and total body awareness. I never once spoke with her, but man, I totally want to be like Angela when I grow up!
I try hard to maintain a steady posture and stance when walking (forget sitting…I turn into a slumped sack of potatoes when proofreading),
Slumped over like a pug with poor posture
to the point where several people have asked me “Are you a dancer?” in non-dance settings, including on the weight floor at the gym and in a pizza shop when I was 13. I had always taken pride in being asked that, even as recently as last year, when I wasn’t taking technique classes anymore but I guess still maintained that “look.” So I was devastated when, after I first busted my hip last year, my yoga teacher watched me walk across the room and told me I have a limp. ?!&$*&@&!! Now *I* was the one with the goofy-looking gait! And then, during my physical therapy sessions, my PT noticed that I tended to walk with my hips shifted to one side. Who am I?!?!?
It is reassuring, then, that one of my coworkers in the marketing department, who works specifically with PT textbooks and several on gait analysis, told me that no one has a perfect gait (except maybe Angela Farmer). There are a million factors that contribute to gait (toes, ankles, knees, hips, core, shoulders, so on and so forth) and when just one is “off,” there goes the picture-perfect anatomical model who walks with everything in line. What that means is that even in my dancing heyday I was never perfect, I’m not perfect now, and I never will be. Even so, that won’t stop me from being overly curious and fascinated with other people’s bodies and the way they carry them. And I’ll never stop hating Shape-Ups.
This past weekend was full of excitement–opening day of our local farmers market, a trip to Philly for a 5Rhythms class, and an up-close-and-personal encounter with some Scottish Highland hairy cows…and I think they’re somehow all connected, too!
The 5Rhythms class was a big deal for me; it was my first class outside of my “regular” circle of dancers and at a new location as well. Up until this weekend, I had only been attending two meetups in New Jersey, both of which I am a “founding” member–there from the beginning. I feel established at those classes; everything is familiar, I see most of the same faces each month. But there is a class in Philly that I had yet to attend, and up until yesterday I was afraid to go. I don’t know the “regulars” there. I am still kind of nervous driving over the bridge to get to the studio. I wasn’t sure I’d fit in with the already-established tribe.
I kind of feared that my experience at this new and unfamiliar place would be like the batch of early-season strawberries I bought on Saturday at the farmers market:
…that everyone else would be all cool and unique and awesome, and I’d be lil’ old Jen, standing out like a sore thumb, trying so hard to be perfect.
People filtered into the room. We all kind of kept to ourselves, staring at the floor, stretching here and there. Some people greeted each other with a hug. But then the music came on, and the batch of semi-awkward strawberries gradually began to look more and more like a cohesive group.
As it turned out, not all of the dancing strawberries were strangers either. One of fellows there has also been to the Jersey classes, and I had danced with two of the women previously at the Biodanza workshop. Berry buddies! I dance to rock ‘n’ roll music with one of the more withdrawn-looking students, and suddenly there is a connection. We thrash around like ecstatic punk rockers and we so slowly break out into smiles. It’s funny, because we both looked so resistant to letting go even though our bodies were saying BE FREEEEEEEE! At the end of the song, our faces finally flash genuine smiles. We are exhausted. And alive! During a moment of Lyrical, suddenly Jersey guy and I are engaged in a kind of theatrical pas de deux. Some of the exchanges we do are so eloquently executed, it looks like they have been choreographed. How we do not crash into each other is amazing. We are keenly aware of each other’s moves and presence, and the give and take of our motions looks anything but spontaneous.
He is much older than I, and at the end of class he comments how he is always amazed about 5Rhythms’ magic in getting his everyday aches and pains to disappear. I echo his sentiment, noting that dancing 5Rhythms is one of the only forms of exercise that takes my mind off my bum hip. I can walk around the shiniest lake on the most beautiful day in the world, admiring the baby geese, the blue sky, the smiling babies in strollers, but still, with each step, my brain is saying, “Hip. Hip. Hip. Hip.” Even on my best days in yoga, I still have to think below the belt every time I rise into Warrior. But when I’m fully immersed in dancing–when the music, my breath, my heartbeat, my brainwaves–are all in sync, there is freedom. (OK, yeah, so my calves are super-sore for the next two days, but that’s a good kind of hurt.)
By the end of class, despite our ages and races and backgrounds, we all sit there together, glowing, looking very much the same. We’ve just shifted into a bit of a different perspective:
If only I had an easier time approaching new things, like a curious puppy. Here I am, nervous about dancing with new people in a different studio, when this weekend, while at my mother-in-law’s house, we took the family dogs for a walk past a Scottish Highland hairy cow farm.
Talk about new and strange.
Gomukha-WTF?!
In typical Jen fashion, I cautiously approached the fence but stayed on alert in case I needed to dash away and save myself from being impaled. They reminded me of bulls, and the way they let that unkempt hair of their hide their eyes was so devious-punk-rocker. I’m sure they were wearing chains and Metallica tattoos under all that fur. They probably just stole a car, too.
The dogs, however, were fascinated. Pippi sat down in front of the fence as though she were watching TV:
I could learn a lot from these dogs. New 5Rhythms classmates, hairy cows, misshapen strawberries…that’s what this world is–hairy, scary, weird, and wild.
Just gotta approach it with a lil’ trust and love.
Emma, the fearless Weimaraner.
I never thought I’d have to cite burnt popcorn fumes as an excuse for missing out on yoga, but today was that day.
My "popcorn" file photo. Clearly, I would have rather smelled this all afternoon than burnt-to-a-crisp fake butter nonsense stuff.
Burnt microwave popcorn is a given in an office environment, but today the perpetrator left the bag in for so long that it had to be seconds away from catching on fire. Smoke was billowing out of the microwave, which, unfortunately, is just a few steps from my cubicle. The resulting smell was AWFUL, and making matters worse is that none of the windows on my side of the building open. The smoke just was not dissipating, and my colleagues and I spent the last hour in the office coughing, blowing our noses, and wiping our watery eyes. I usually hang around the office an extra 40 minutes and then proceed to the yoga studio for class, but all I wanted to do this afternoon was get the hell home. No way was I hanging around any longer than I had to! I spent the entire drive home sucking in air from my rolled-down windows, even though I was driving 65 miles per hour on a windy day. The smoke lingered in my throat and nose, and when I got home I knew that yoga was absolutely necessary (a) to calm me down! and (b) to get my lungs to expel that nasty smoky popcorn air and inhale some long, clean, deep fresh breaths.
I normally just plop on my mat and do a “whatever-comes-to-me” practice, but because I had originally planned on going to a formal studio class, I was in the mood for something a little more structured. I tinkered around on iTunes, very close to choosing my old standby, Phillip Urso’s Baptiste power yoga, but then I thought of Thais’ recent post about her amazing Jivamukti class in DC, and I did the unthinkable: I tried something new. I found Sofi Dillof’s podcast collection on iTunes; she’s got a pretty decent stash of Jivamukti podcasts all ready to roll. Lemme tell you, best choice ever!
The 1-hour, 24-minute class I selected started off with a brief chant, Om’ing, some much-needed kapalabhati breath, a short ‘n’ sweet little talk about moving from Me to We, and then one hell of a phenomenal asana practice. Enough vinyasa flows to have me work up a little sweat (impressive for not being in a heated studio), 5 breaths in each posture (the perfect amount, in my opinion), nothing TOO crazy for the hips, and–my favorite–a revolved triangle thrown in near the end of class during the middle of belly-down postures. It totally threw me for a loop, but OMG that twist felt like heaven, and for a sweet minute my sacrum felt as flat and stable as a coffee table. Three wheels, some shoulderstand, and a fish pose later, I was relaxing in a decent-length savasana, almost fell asleep, and then sat in meditation for another 5 minutes. The best part? My confused brain thought it was later than it was and expected to exit the yoga room into a dark hallway…but it was still bright and sunny! Bonus: I didn’t have to drive home!
Conclusion: I will definitely be listening to some more of Sofi Dillof’s classes. The pacing was perfect, everything was easy to understand despite being an audio-only podcast (just gotta know your Sanskrit!), and I loved the blend of chanting, meditation, lecture, pranayama, and invigorating asana. I had energy to cook dinner after my practice! Usually when I come home from hot yoga I am a big hot mess of laziness and resort to eating a bowl of cereal for dinner. Now I just wish I could find a local studio that offers Jivamukti!
P.S. Jivamukti excites me, but so does this. Are any other die-hard So You Think You Can Dance fans out there? Aside from the news and some sporting events, I haven’t watched real TV in months, but that will all end May 26!
SYTYCD Season 7 tour, Atlantic City. (My 30th birthday present from my husband!)
Visions of days like today are my “happy places” on dark, icy nights in January, when I’m sitting in yoga class, not really 100% sure if I’m actually there for the yoga or just the 95-degree-plus-humidity climate. During opening meditation, when the teacher tells us to imagine ourselves in a place where we feel at ease, relaxed, happy, I ditch her suggested visualization of a tropical beach, hammock, and ocean and instead envision a more realistic scene that includes our kitchen, with the sun streaming through the open windows, ceiling fan making the wispy white curtains dance; our bedroom, where I wake up at 5 a.m. in nothing but a t-shirt and underpants; my car, where the windows are down, my legs are bare under my flowing skirt, my feet sockless. I imagine driving down the main road in town, the path ahead of me a clear stretch of blacktop lined with flourishing green plants and canopied with flowering trees, no longer an obstacle course of snow piles and ice patches and bare tree limbs looming over me like giant skeleton hands ready to crack and tumble onto the roof of my car.
THAT’s my happy place, and I’m there right now, folks. April has been kind enough to bless South Jersey with a little preview of summer, a preview during which the digital clock outside the bank flashes 88, the shower dial isn’t turned all the way to the left, and the frozen yogurt Bryan and I dish ourselves for dessert starts softening just a little quicker.
Mornings like this make it more difficult to decide how to best wake myself up—it feels like the opportunities are endless! Do I do sun salutations synchronized to the sunrise? Do I put on my sneakers and walk around the neighborhood as the sky transitions from dark blue to turquoise? Do I bike? Dance? Swim in the sunny, salty waters of my gym?
This is the time of year when routines are broken, when just because I planned to do such-and-such this morning, you know what? It’s so beautiful out, I’m inspired, and I’m going to do THIS instead. I went to bed with every intention of waking up at 5, doing my meditation challenge, and heading outside for a 2-mile walk, but after assessing the way my body was feeling, I decided to dance instead of walk. I had just gone on a nice walk the evening before, and I was reluctant to change out of my comfy pajamas. Meg from Spirit Moves Dance recently posted a great 5Rhythms playlist that I have been itching to try out, so this morning my way of waking up included a little bit of Flowing, Staccato, Chaos, Lyrical, and Stillness. Forty minutes later, my pajamas were saturated in sweat, my heart rate quicker than any walk could have given me. I felt like I was partially responsible for helping the sun rise, like my 7 minutes of thrashing around in Chaos shook the earth just enough to pop the sun from under the horizon.
Although I changed my planned routine this morning, I do have morning rituals that are very hard to break. Aside from the basics (brushing teeth, getting dressed), my morning essentials include:
- Drinking a big cup of warm water. Apparently warm/hot water gets the digestion tract going, and I also believe everyone wakes up dehydrated, so it’s important to get liquids in the system ASAP!
- Rolling around and stretching on the living room floor like a cat, which usually involves some kind of yoga moves (downdogs, supta matsyendrasana), as well as using my foam roller to knead out muscle kinks.
- Standing warm-ups, such as Breath of Joy or Empty Coatsleeves…something with a hara breath.
- All or some of my physical therapy exercises. Doing the entire set takes about half an hour, so usually I’ll abbreviate each exercise or do only a few.
- Showering. Even if I shower the night before and do nothing in between then and leaving for work, I still need to stand under warm water for a few minutes. My muscles aren’t the same otherwise!
- Finally, meditation. This is relatively new, but I’m trying to get it to stick. I started the Chopra Center’s 21-Day Spring Meditation Challenge 10 days ago, and I’ve actually been looking forward to the 10 to 15 minutes of quiet reflection each morning. I’m hoping that one day meditating in the morning will be as easy as drinking a glass of water!
QUESTION: What are your morning rituals?
I was so excited to see the sun today. After a mostly miserable/dreary morning and afternoon yesterday that had my husband and I in our pajamas until 3 p.m. trudging around the house like those depressed little wind-up dolls from the Pristiq commercial,
a 70-degree morning with sun blazing through the blinds and lighting up my beautiful carnations was enough to get me giddy.
I made an ambitious to-do list of everything that needs to be done before I leave for my parents’ house for Easter dinner, started sipping on my coffee, and felt the caffeine fly through my system. My body was buzzing with excitement over the weather–I wanted to frolic outside!–but I had other things to do first: throw in a load of laundry, wrap an Easter present for my mother-in-law, do my PT exercises…oh, and meditate. So there I was, attempting to do the most “still” thing ever, and it felt like I was tumbling around in a clothes dryer, my mile-a-minute brain thunking against everything thought it came in contact with. So although I was sitting there, hands on my lap, meditating…was I really doing it, or was I lost in some abyss of ungroundedness?
This mental frenzy reminded me of an analogy my 5Rhythms teacher used last week to explain the entire concept of 5Rhythms; specifically, a “Wave,” the term used to describe a linear completion of the five rhythms: Flowing, Staccato, Chaos, Lyrical, and Stillness. The analogy, not surprisingly, was surfing.
My high school friend Wendy, now a Hawaii resident!
Surfing, my teacher explained, isn’t just “getting swept away” by the waves. Although it looks like the surfer is totally just going with the flow, allowing the ocean to do the work and the person just happily cruising along, there is a very strong connection between the person, the board, and the water. A surfer doesn’t just quickly pop up from kneeling to standing without some kind of intention, without some kind of relationship (kinetic, energetic, etc.) with the board and the swelling waters around her. When the surfer stands, she is grounded. There is connection with that board, a connection running from her eyes to her arms, to her torso, legs, feet, nerves, blood, muscles, and beyond. But to the naked eye, it’s just a big ol’ wave with a teeny tiny person going along for the ride.
Dancing the 5Rhythms is so very similar. If a newcomer stepped into a studio and found a group of people sweeping around the floor in Flowing, it would be so easy to assume that these people are caught up in some kind of mystical flow, moving around like directionless kites on a breezy day. And during Chaos? Clearly, everyone is out of their minds, possessed.
But just as I’m sure surfers would say their sport is mix of being grounded and letting go, so is dancing. Even during the most wild, sweaty, head-tossing, feet-flying Chaos, we are still in connection with something. Maybe it’s not the physical ground (especially if you’re leaping and jumping), but it’s spirit, Self, god, an intention, universal connection, so on and so forth. We are only able to let loose by staying close to something. In yoga terms, rising into an inversion or bakasana is like taking that brave step up on the surfboard, but even then during flight the yogi is connected to the ground, hands firmly pressed into the mat, core engaged, breath and mind in sync.
A very literal expression of this was done in my last 5Rhythms class. During the start of Chaos, the teacher gathered everyone in a circle, holding hands. The music was frenetic, deep drum beats, and we were instructed to let everything go, move the body, shake the feet and legs, toss the head–but to keep our hands connected. It was one of most powerful moments of Chaos I have ever experienced, even though I wasn’t flailing around the room, corner to corner, wall to wall. Here I was, confined to this space between the person on my left and the person on my right, my arms only able to move so much without snapping mine or my partners’ out of the sockets, but I was letting go, being swept away, dancing outside of my brain. The connection was what had made it so intense, being supported by those other dancers’ hands, being part of this circle in which everyone was holding on tight but simultaneously letting go.
I have a few more things on my to-do list to check off before I head out to dinner. I’m going to try my best to surf my way through them all!
I don’t know what made me think of it, but last week I was reminiscing about my junior year of college and my balls-to-the-wall attitude; specifically, the time I decided to enter my university’s Lip Sync contest—by myself, on my own, with no backup support or motivation.
The concept was as simple as it sounds: Pick a song and lip sync to it in front of a crowd of many. Winner takes home $300 cash, with $200 and $100 prizes available for the second the third place winner.
Without giving it much thought, I decided, “Sure, what the hell?” I grew up performing solo dance routines in my elementary and high school talent shows, so I was used to any potential mockery or ridiculing (as is what happens when one, wearing a sparkly green and black sequin/spandex costume, does a jazz dance number to a 2-Unlimited techno song in front of an audience of quick-to-judge “cool kids”). Besides, I kind of looked forward to showing off my “other side” to a student population who only knew me as the bookish journalism student who once actually wrote a letter to the head of residence life because the other students in her dorm were a bit on the “raucous” side and blasted music past her bedtime. This was my opportunity to say “Watch out, kiddos! I may look like a librarian in the making, but I will dance those Dewey decimals into the ground!”
So there I was, ready to make an appearance and show the campus who’s hot stuff….so naturally, I picked a Broadway.showtune. as my song of choice. I had performed in my university’s production of Cabaret the year before, so I was quite familiar with the music.
Me backstage as Kit Kat girl Lulu (third from left). Or maybe this picture was from "28 Days Later: The Musical." Yikes!
I thought the song “Don’t Tell Mama” was a great choice for my debut in the Lip Sync scene: It was slightly scandalous, focused around the innocent-looking-but-not-really theme, and was a much better showtune for this type of event than, say, “Send in the Clowns.” I was taking my audience into consideration: late-teen, 20-something, mostly frat guys and sorority girls. I needed a number where I could look sexy and end in a split.
If my memory serves me correctly, I was the only person who entered the contest alone. The remaining contestants were either part of a pair or a giant group, mostly Greeks representing their letters. There was money to win, but I definitely had everything to lose, including my self-esteem, reputation, and ability to walk around campus without being laughed at.
What I did have going for me was that I was in this for myself, by myself. No one had encouraged me to enter the contest, and no one was in the audience rooting me on. I had downplayed the entire thing to my friends (“Ehh, come if you want, but it’s really no big deal.”) and preferred going into this potentially humiliating mess alone. That’s the balls-to-the-wall attitude I’m talking about; the initiative to just get up and DO something, even if it’s scary, maybe embarrassing, with no support system waving in the wings. And I think that’s what allowed me to shine that evening—I just did it. I put myself out there, in front of a massive hootin’-and-hollerin’ crowd that looked like this:
Actual crowd shot from the contest.
The other groups got whoop-whoops and cheers and homemade posters held up in their honor. I got applause, but none of the extra bells and whistles of support.
At the end of the night, however, I DID get $200.
Yup, I won second place. “Singing” and dancing to a freakin’ Broadway showtune. Beating out fraternity groups who performed to rap songs, placing ahead of sorority sisters who acted like Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera. I was shocked. Stunned. And pretty damn proud of myself!
My balls-to-the-wall endeavors since then haven’t been as dramatic, and unfortunately they occur less often. It’s a shame, because things usually end up better than I anticipate, like when I auditioned for a state-wide dance festival a month after returning from yoga teacher training and was actually accepted into a piece, despite doubts about my abilities; or the time I stood in front of a group at a leaderless drum circle and suddenly became the “teacher” who attendees looked to for guidance. That’s kind of the way I am; I stand quietly in the corner, silently observing the world around me, and then without much thought just launch into an entirely different person and take the reins.
But is it really “an entirely different person”? Or is that who I really am, and this bookish Tina Fey/Liz Lemon-wannabe character is really just a façade, my layer of protection from potential humiliation and defeat?
Would a librarian in training really audition for her school’s production of Cabaret by singing “Mein Herr” while stripping down to nothing but black velour pants and a strapless bra??
(Sorry, dudes. No photo for that one!) 🙂
This weekend will mark my first 5Rhythms class without one of my favorite props: my hair.
To clarify, I still have hair, just 8 inches less of it. I went from this:
to this:
Although I was rockin’ the Lady Godiva look by the end (and its pure weight was what finally drove me to get it cut), I truly loved my My-Little-Pony-tail-on-steroids head. My untamed hair was like a dance partner in 5Rhythms classes: It flowed when I flowed, bounced when I staccatoed, and clung to my sweaty face, neck, and arms during chaos.
Sometimes during 5Rhythms I’ll pull at my hair like I’m a psychiatric patient. Or I’ll very deliberately unravel it from a braid during Stillness, very aware of each individual strand.
During one particular Chaos set, I remember releasing the braid from my hair and using my wild-woman locks as a fifth limb. I felt very Alanis Morissette at the time, and moving like that wanted me to keep my hair growing longer and longer, even though I kept talking about needing to get it cut. But that night it felt like part of me, like energy and blood and prana and all that good stuff was running through it as much as in my arms or legs.
It’s kind of funny that I allow my hair to be so wild during dance these days. Back in high school and college, I hated the feel of loose hair on me as I danced. I was constantly on a quest for a rubber band strong enough to turn this:
into something more like this:
By my senior year of college, I had had enough of constantly readjusting my hair after each pirouette and chaine turn. I only knew of one way to keep my hair in place:
Chop it all off!
The old dancer me was about neatly packaged buns (That’s what she said!), meticulous French braids, and slick ponytails. My hair was to be unmoving, proper.
Now I understand that my hair needs to dance the 5Rhythms as much as the rest of my body. After all, isn’t 5Rhythms about “letting your hair down,” so to speak? 🙂
I just can’t help it. As much as I love drumming, it’s no secret that I love dancing to drums even more.
I love making music:
…but once everyone’s songs mesh into that one perfect percussive orchestra, my body can’t sit still any longer.
Yesterday’s drum circle was not so much about the technical aspects of drum playing but rather the healing qualities that these wonderful instruments have, especially when played as part of a group. The workshop was led by a duo of women: Marcy, a no-nonsense percussion phenom who taught the basics of each instruments:
Marcy (front left) explaining how to use a djembe
…and Jan, a “Mother Earth,” grandmotherly figure who preached about the importance of self-healing, connection to spirit, and being in tune with the universe. She was a vibrant being from head to toe, beyond the colorful ensemble she was wearing. She spoke like a pastor at an AME church: poised, passionate, and provocative, calling for us to find connection with the world beyond our physical bodies, but reminding us to take care of ourselves as well, through yoga, reiki, and massage. I adored Jan: Her spirit was infectious, and I couldn’t help smiling every time she spoke.
Jan and her shekere.
The event attracted a decent crowd for it being held in a small-town yoga studio, where, across the street, high school hipsters in aviator shades and skinny jeans sat outside a pizza shop. Inside, about 15 people of all ages and races collected to shake, rattle, and roll. One woman brought her young son (maybe 10 years old?) who was amazingly well-behaved and engaged in the program (at the end, when we went around the room describing how we were feeling, he responded with “EXHAUSTED! And healed.” <—LOVE!)
The "exhausted and healed" kid
Even more amazing, a woman I traveled to Egypt with in 2005 was there; I haven’t seen here since then! My sidekick for the day was Carrol, my former coworker. I call her my Fake Mom, and we do artsy stuff together.
Coming "om" with Carrol
Although several of us brought our own drums, Marcy and Jan toted along a whole mini-van of assorted instruments: djembes, shekeres, bells, a snare drum, and frame drums.
Shekere your booty!
Carrol tries out the djun djun
They also brought gourds, which reminded me of my hula days and playing the ipu. However, these gourds were painted to represent the colors of the chakras, and we “tuned in” to each chakra by chanting its specific sound.
One of my favorite take-home quotes of the day was when Jan described the ajna chakra. “They say it’s your third eye,” she said. “But let’s call it the first eye,” meaning that both eyes really become one during meditation.
It could have been the beautiful spring weather helping, but I left the studio feeling revived! I’ve been to an assortment of drum circles/events, but this one infused me with vitality. Jim Donovan‘s workshops have helped me with the technical aspect of drumming, but this one incorporated the spiritual elements of using instruments made from Mother Nature to connect with the rest of the world around us. Two hours of drumming, breathing, chanting, call-and-response, and, most important, the freedom to DANCE!
I loved Biodanza before I even stepped foot into the introductory workshop this past weekend, for three reasons:
1) The name alone. It translates to “dance of life.” Adding “bio” onto something makes it sound essential to life, like dance is essential to our biological existence, just as important as eating and breathing. Yes!
2) Biodanza’s tagline is “the poetry of human encounter.” Beautiful!
3) A quick definition of Biodanza is “a movement-based system that integrates music, dance, and authentic relationships with self, others, and the world to support health, joy, and a sense of being fully alive.” Bring it!
Biodanza Background
Without getting too much into the history, Biodanza originated in Chile, developed by Rolando Toro Araneda, a clinical psychologist and anthropologist who noticed the positive effects of music and dance on his patients. Biodanza as a movement/healing modality is found mostly in South America, Europe, and the U.S. West Coast. The instructor from Saturday’s workshop, Michelle Dubreuil Macek, is in the process of opening a Biodanza school on the East Coast; she is located in the Maryland/DC area but expressed interest in coming to the Philadelphia region regularly if the interest is there. (I’m raising my hand now, but you can’t see it!)
Despite my excitement about the workshop, I’ll admit I was a bit nervous. The instructor posted a video of a sample class online beforehand, and there was a lot of partner work. Touching. Looking eye-to-eye with other students. Now, we do do some partner work in 5Rhythms, but there’s generally no “forced” contact, and much of the class is a private experience with the added benefit of using others’ energy to enhance or energize your own dance. Connections are made during 5Rhythms, but they are somewhat indirect, whereas the entire purpose of Biodanza is to experience a meaningful connection with everyone in the room. This is done through various exercises, such as walking around the room holding hands with a partner while looking at them in the eyes, or sitting in groups of four, closing your eyes, and weaving your hands up and down with the others in your circle: fingers, thumbs, and wrists gently stroking and brushing each other. Several solo exercises are incorporated throughout, to strengthen your connection to self. It wasn’t that I was opposed to the partner/group work; I just had reservations about delving into them in just a 2-hour program. It sounded like something that would require time: Would it be possible for connections like that to develop in just 120 minutes?
Initial Awkwardness
I was afraid of being the “unfeeling” one in the class, the student whose smiles and enthusiasm about holding hands were fake and forced, self-consciously trying to enjoy all of the exercises with as much gusto as the folks around me. And yes, the first exercise—getting into a big circle, holding hands, and dancing around like hippies without the “Kumbaya”—was a bit awkward. People started smiling from the get-go, but I just wasn’t feeling the love right away; I felt like I was being pressured into an adult version of Ring-a-Round the Rosey.
Is That a Smile I See?
The next exercise had us in pairs, holding hands, and walking around the room to upbeat music. We were directed to look into each others’ eyes during the process. I started to break out of my shell here, only because the combination of the fun music plus our goofy walking/dancing/skipping moves and the direction to communicate only through our eyes and face (with the exception of the teacher’s talking, the entire class is nonverbal) made me feel like I was dancing in a GAP commercial. In fact, if you had put us all in khakis and blue button-down shirts, we were a GAP commercial.
Other partner/group exercises included the “Airport Greeting,” where we partnered up and had to approach our partner from across the room as though we were seeing them for the first time in years. My partner was a middle-aged black woman named Michelle, who was just the most ebullient person in the room. Her eyes twinkled and her entire faced glowed, and when we finally met up at the “airport gate,” we exploded in giggles and embraced as though we had really known each other, even though I had only just met her an hour ago.
There were times, no doubt, we all looked like a bunch of freshmen college students in Acting 101 class. If I let myself think too much about what was going on, surely I would cringe. But the fact was, I was having fun, I paid to be here, and everyone else around me was there for a reason too.
Dancing Alone vs. Dancing with Others
What made the class work was the balance between dancing with others and dancing alone. So for all of the partner exercises, there were the same number of private moments, when we could escape into our own movement. We walked to boogie-woogie music, and then tried walking to a very different song with a strong downbeat. We danced from our hips, and then from our heart. We were instructed to “dance our breath.” The music picked up, and we danced with no boundaries, much like the rhythm of Chaos.
However, as someone who generally shuns group/partner work, I was surprised at how much I enjoyed working with others. One of most moving exercises for me was the “seaweed arm dance,” in which we s-l-o-w-l-y traveled through the room while letting our arms dance like seaweed. The teacher told us that if we happened to bump into someone, turn it into a meaningful connection instead of shying away. It happened a few times to me: I’d “bump” into someone with my arms; my gut reaction was to apologize and draw away, but instead I’d try to avoid flinching and just stay connected to them (much like the basis of contact improv).
Well, That Was Fun!
The workshop ended the same way it started: with all of us in a circle, hands clasped, doing the ol’ Ring-Around-the-Rosey, but this time to Ringo Starr’s “It Don’t Come Easy,” and far less awkward. Our smiles were relaxed and genuine, and we pulled and tugged and skipped and laughed like first graders out at recess. Just the day before, I had commented in 5Rhythms class that it’s so hard to get my face to become part of the dance; I can make my elbows dance, I can make my knees dance, but everything from the neck up is a struggle. But that afternoon in Biodanza, I could finally feel my face start to dance: My eyes widened and winked; I exchanged goofy bug-eyed, tongue-out expressions; I pouted my lips, I made monster faces; and for once my teeth saw the light of day. The super-serious military sergeant mask finally gave way.
The 2-hour class flew by, and I felt so humble and content afterward. I lingered around, chatting with a girl who looked slightly younger than me and was there with her mother-in-law to be, and then with Michelle, the enthusiastic black woman I had paired with earlier. She confessed that she was actually very shy; I was stunned–she looked like a pro!
Lasting Impressions
For the rest of the weekend, every time I closed my eyes I saw the faces of those with whom I danced that afternoon. After looking at people directly in the eye for a prolonged period, their faces really become emblazoned in your mind. And vividly, too. Even today, three whole days later, I can close my eyes and picture every one of those in the studio with me. It reminded me of our YTT graduation at Kripalu, when we walked down the “receiving line” and made direct eye contact with each of our classmates.
Physically, I felt wonderful too. Between doing 5Rhythms on Friday, Biodanza on Saturday, and then some simple swimming on Sunday, my body was so happy–allowed to move as it needed, with plenty of “self-regulation” (a term the Biodanza teacher reinforced) whenever the hip needed a break.
Final Comments
(a) A Biodanza group has to be fairly large, at least 10 people. Any less, and then you’re stuck dancing with the same people over and over again. The good thing about Saturday’s class size was that there were so many people to partner with and several personalities to explore.
(b) If a regular class were to be offered, it would be preferable to have the same group each time, rather than the class as a drop-in offering. Otherwise, newcomers may potentially feel left out if they drop in on a group that has established a deep connection already.
(c) You can’t have any reservations about germs and hand-holding.
(d) Yes, several of the exercises are goofy and silly. But so is sitting around someone’s living room watching them play Guitar Hero.
(e) I was amazed at how much I was sweating. It felt like more of a “cleansing” sweat though, than a “workout” sweat.
In conclusion, Biodanza (or as my husband calls it, Tony Danza) is something I would like to do again!
Flowtation Devices 