…why I never always felt free with “free flow”…

17th century poet John Dryden wrote a quote that often sticks in my mind time and time again in all aspects of my life.

"stiffling the urge to dance is bad for your health, it rusts your spirit and your hips"

Reassuring to know that this idea still deemed important back before the age Instagram and the fitness explosion.

We know deeply in our souls that movement helps us move but many of us find this a hard prospect to imagine implementing into life. I know when I have periods of reduced movement or exercise I find the hardest thing is to get back into it. We all know that inner gulp through gritted teeth when someone suggests “go and do some light exercise” after feeling like the only thing you feel capable of is doing a days work and cooking an evening meal.

For me, these moments often occur when I am overworked, prioritising earning money and emotionally strained, my confidence reduces and my body stiffens up with both will power and physiologically, a vicious cycle really. My partner who is a dedicated meditator and tai chi practitioner who I watch how they practice these in their life, whilst I know that they often battle with resistance too, I am often in awe of their consistency, even when gently encouraged to join them, the stubborn nature in me dismisses it. The mere suggestion of engaging in light exercise often triggers an instinctual resistance, prompting reflection on whether this resistance originates from my mental state or my physical condition.

Currently, however my movement practice is much more in flow than it was, after making the time. I am moving my body in new ways and finding that other systems are moving better in me. Though my energy may be the same as before but my energy or focus in the things that I had a passion for are returning and the passion in me is also returning. This is manifesting in a different way than I expected. I am not energised to do 20k runs, surf everyday or complete 100 skips a day, this new energy is creative and is quietly guiding me. This is that part of me perhaps I needed and I was missing for a bit.

Inner Rhythm

I must admit, I've never been particularly drawn to 5 Rhythms or ecstatic dance. While I appreciate the concept, as someone with a background in classical based dance training I've found the idea of ecstatic dance-based practices somewhat off-putting in the past. However, I recognize that my perspective may be influenced by the framework I've placed upon myself. It's interesting to consider how our conditioning, especially through formal dance training, can limit our openness to alternative movement practices. The different techniques and styles we're taught often become ingrained as the "right" or "only" way to move. Similarly, this conditioning exists in our daily practices and routines, where certain actions are deemed acceptable or expected. Despite this conditioning, when I have attended these sessions, I've noticed a shift in how I feel and have found enjoyment in the release it offers me.

The reminiscence of my first ecstatic 5 rhythms dance class, two decades ago in Boston, Massachusetts, remains vivid in my memory. Not really aware of what I was going to, I found myself swept into the swirling energy of the class, guided by my uncle, now in his mid-70s, whose vibrant spirit seemed to defy age.

After two hours of tentative participation, the class began to come together or so I thought. Initially unsure, I couldn't help but chuckle as I watched my uncle twirl about with these enormous, rainbow-hued ribbons, revealing a playful, inner hippy that had been hiding in plain sight. Yet, amidst the chuckles and my typical 18 year old teenager sense of perhaps feeling a little ‘uncool’ in it all, there was a sense of wonder—a recognition of the sheer joy radiating from his every move and really my first introduction to what dance is and what it can be and more importantly what it can do! Despite a decade of classical ballet and professional contemporary dance training, I realized that true mastery of movement transcends technique—it resides in the pulsating rhythm of one's own being.

My uncle and aunt stand as living testaments to the vitality of movement. Both in their 70s now, they embody the belief that staying active is synonymous with staying alive. Recently, my uncle pursued a new passion, qualifying as a yoga teacher—a testament to the fact that time and age does not defy our ability to move.

In conversation with my aunt about the transformative power of movement, she expressed a sentiment that resonated deeply with me:

"yes I think it is crucial to move one's body. Sometimes only moving my body changes my perspective on life. Once I move, I feel better"

When discussing the concept of transitioning from regular movement to dancing, many individuals initially express hesitation. They often mention their ability to perform structured exercises like the grapevine or participate in aerobic classes with music, but the prospect of dancing seems daunting to them. In response, I emphasize that they are already engaging in choreography without realizing it. Whether it's following a set routine in an aerobic class or executing specific movements to music, they are essentially following a prescribed way of moving.

In my teaching approach, I aim to expand this perspective. Instead of teaching a singular "correct" way to move, I offer a variety of movement vocabularies. By presenting different approaches, I provide a framework that allows for individual expression and interpretation. This approach creates a supportive environment for those who may feel apprehensive about dancing, offering them the freedom to explore movement in their own unique way.

Through this process, individuals can discover their personal style and develop confidence in their movement abilities. It's about finding "a way" that resonates with them, rather than conforming to a predefined notion of how to move. Ultimately, this personalized approach enables individuals to experience the transformative power of movement in a way that feels authentic and meaningful to them.

In conclusion, the journey from simply moving to confidently dancing is not about conforming to a singular way of expression. It's about embracing the freedom to explore movement in a way that resonates with each individual. By offering a variety of movement vocabularies and guiding individuals through their own unique paths, we can unlock the transformative potential of movement. So, whether you're taking your first steps onto the dance floor or refining your technique, remember that there's no one "right" way to dance. Embrace your own way, and let the joy of movement lead you forward.

Miranda

x

A thank you to my Uncle Tad and Auntie Claudyne for inspiring this blog entry!

For information on my latest movement workshops please click on link below

Dance Dynamics

“sometimes we just don’t feel like the plan we made”

I am always navigating myself in this world, every day I try to trust what the day will bring but often it brings in the unpredictable moments despite the planning. The word navigate seems overused in my vocabulary at the moment. I use it to refer to how I feel my way through my career, relationships and health choices. It seems like a word that I can really make use of and that can adapt to anything and any challenges in my life.

Sure, navigating used to be about getting from one place to another. But nowadays, it's more about going with the flow, exploring new horizons, and seeing where life takes you.

Conventionally, there's a common belief in the linear progression of life, marked by a clear beginning and end. Yet, our journey spans far beyond mere points of origin and conclusion, offering continuous opportunities for learning and personal development. This destination we seek may not adhere to traditional solidity; rather, it may take on fluid, intangible forms. Perhaps, it's a journey without a fixed endpoint, where the pursuit of growth becomes the destination itself.

What I'm aiming to convey here might not be crystal clear, but as I was exchanging messages with a close friend, both of us employed in caregiving roles, the topic of energy levels emerged, as it often does. We frequently discuss the challenge of preserving energy for ourselves while fulfilling our caregiving duties. It's an ongoing process, one I aspire to improve upon. At the end of her message she wrote:

“sometimes we just don’t feel like the plan we made”

We often plan to experience life fully, but sometimes our plans don't align with reality. Despite our expectations, plans often change, leading us in unexpected directions.

So….the journey of life is a constant navigation through the unpredictable waters of existence. While we may try to chart our course and stick to our plans, we inevitably encounter unexpected challenges and detours along the way. However, it is in these moments of uncertainty that we truly learn to navigate - to adapt, to explore new horizons, and to embrace the fluidity of our experiences.

As we reflect on our personal journeys, it becomes evident that life is not a linear path with a clear beginning and end, but rather a continuous voyage of growth and discovery. We must learn to let go of rigid expectations and embrace the inherent unpredictability of life.

In our quest for balance and fulfillment, it is essential to recognize the importance of self-care and flexibility. Just as sailors must know when to set sail and when to drop anchor, we too must learn when to forge ahead and when to pause, replenishing our energy and reassessing our direction.