A student of mine told me a story the other day that I just can’t get out of my head.
She was remembering a time when she and her husband were in Israel right after a suicide bomber blew himself up outside a discotheque on a beachfront in Tel Aviv.
They were walking along that same beachfront a few days later when they came across a handmade memorial that said: “We will not stop dancing.”
So let's keep dancing.
Even when are scared or nervous or panicky.
Even when we are alarmed or skittish or chilled to the bone.
Even when we are frightened.
Even when our bodies do not work as fluidly as they did 10 years ago or even last year.
Even when we are hurting.
Even when we don’t know why.
Even when we had high hopes of becoming a supreme court justice or a prima ballerina.
Even when those that aren’t dancing, watch us and scratch their heads.
Even when that thing inside us says “what good does it do?”
We will not stop dancing.
I was driving my 13 year-old niece home yesterday and she was telling me about a new musician she had just discovered.
She was crooning along to his songs, which were sad and melancholy…perfect for 13.
At some point she took a break and said to me: “It’s just weird. His songs are so sad and depressing. But he is so happy when he isn’t singing.”
And I said “I think that makes sense though. We all carry a certain amount of sadness just by being human beings, and if we have a place to express that sadness maybe it helps to lighten the load a little bit.”
She got very quiet and then said, “I think so too.”
Chalk one up for a blue-ribbon aunt/niece talk that didn’t have to do with who is getting the most subscribers on youtube these days!!!!
Let’s make a pact.
Let’s make a pact that we will not stop dancing.
We will not stop dancing At our desks in the office
We will not stop dancing In line at the grocery store
We will not stop dancing With the kids after dinner
We will not stop dancing In the living room after the children have gone to sleep
We will not stop dancing In the morning when we wake up, just for a moment before getting out of bed
We will not stop dancing At the discotheque in Israel and in Palestine
We will not stop dancing At the Mall of America in Minnesota
We will not stop dancing On the steps of the Capital Building.
We will not stop dancing When we are still and silent and hushed.
Dancing allows me to be human.
Dancing allows me to experience the world as an extraordinary place.
Dancing allows me to make a connection with this planet - not in a “woo woo earth/mother/goddess/priestess/recycling/prius/whole foods/full moon” kind of way - but in a “let me lie down and feel the curve of the earth beneath me so that when I stand up my movement and my interactions are influenced by that curve” kind of way.
Dancing allows me to be in relationship with others in a profound, rich, and meaningful manner.
We are part of each other.
Dancing reminds me of that.
Sometimes dancing makes me sad.
Sometimes dancing is incredibly frustrating.
Sometimes I need a break.
Sometimes I don’t understand it.
Sometimes dancing rattles me to my core.
Sometimes I lose my way.
And yet it is because of dancing that I am able to make sense of this world.
Your dance mission for the week is to lie down. To imagine the curve of the earth beneath you. To imagine you're body reaching down to the very core of the earth. To imagine the core of earth reaching up to meet your body. And when those 2 things meet in your imagination, notice what happens.
With Warmth and Jivey Vibes, Joanna of Joanna and The Agitators sweetly agitating/persistently upending www.joannaandtheagitators.com