Hey

I have tried really hard not to be a dancer.

It's difficult and painful, and I can’t let it go when I get home. 

It's all consuming.

It wakes me up at 3am.

Sometimes it makes me cry.

I fail all the time.

Sometimes in a big way, and everyday in a small way.

It leaves me in a state of imperfection, with flaws, cracks, and blemishes.

I never know what just happened, and yet in a certain sense, I know exactly what happened.

So much so that I am left crawling on the floor, melting into a puddle of goo.

I’m a dancer simply because I can’t imagine doing anything else.

I have tried, believe me, oh how I have tried.

But it comes down to this:  

Dancing is how I make sense of the day to day atrocities, doldrums, splendors, and glories of this world.

Dancing, with all of it’s contradictions and mess, is profound and complete.

I have tried really hard not to be a dancer.

And I have failed.

Miserably. 

I have come close to letting it all go, more than once.

I’m glad that I held on.

This was one of those time that my strange brain kept me going:

I was working for a non-profit in Northampton, MA and was doing such a good job with my data entry skills (I’m very good at faking it) that they asked me to apply to be the Director of Fiscal Operations.

I thought,  “This is it.  This is what I was meant to do. I’m done struggling with these low-paying jobs that barely leave me any time, money, or energy to dance on the side.  I’m going to be the Director of Physical Operations.”

It felt like the perfect match for my background in dance and outdoor education, and I came up with a whole slew of physical activities that I would implement and facilitate for the staff:

Hiking, Swimming, Rock Climbing, Canoeing, Biking, Yoga, and of course, Dancing.

I went to the interview in my brand new tracksuit and sneakers (I wanted to look professional because I really wanted this job), with a set of movement exercises for the interviewing panel.

We started out lying down on the carpeted office floor, with chairs and desks pushed to the side, feeling our breath and extending through the diagonals of our bodies.

I was surprised that everyone was in pantyhose, skirts, and heels, but that was okay, I could work with it. 

As I gathered everyone into a group to begin flocking, the woman who had suggested I apply for the job, stopped me and said:

“Let’s pause for a moment and make sure we are all on the same page here.  We’re interviewing for the Director of Fiscal Operations.”

“Oh, I know.  I have a whole curriculum in place for the physical well-being of your staff.  I feel confident I can direct the Physical Operations of this organization.”

“FISCAL,” she said, “As in finance and money.  We’re looking for a Fiscal Director. Not a PHYSICAL Director.”

I paused for a moment and took that in.

“Oh.”

“OH.”

“OH NO. You mean you want me to be in charge of your money?”

I started to laugh uncontrollably, and then everyone on the interview panel began to laugh too. 

When we all quieted down, I asked if they’d like to continue learning about flocking, since we had the time set aside anyway, and they had taken their high heels off at this point.  

We ended up flocking together for the next half an hour and had an amazing time.

Then I went back to my desk and continued with my data entry in my shiny new striped track suit and sneakers.

I stayed on doing data entry at that job for another year, and got along fabulously with the Fiscal Director they eventually hired.

Tuesday and Thursday mornings I came in an hour early to teach a dance class to the staff.

Oh Dancing!

You make my heart ache.

On another note, since I have finally accepted the fact that I am a dancer and this is how I am going to walk in the world - at least for awhile - I have two dance performances coming up.

Do you wanna come?

The first one takes place in the pool at The North Boulder Recreation Center. 

I am making and performing it with Laura Ann.

We rehearsed yesterday in our costumes, and it changed everything, so I can’t wait to see how this dance continues to unfold.

We will be working with the music for the first time tomorrow.

The show, Goodnight, Courtney Love, takes place from Thursday, Oct 8th-Saturday, Oct 10th in the Leisure Pool at The North Boulder Recreation Center.

It's family friendly and FREE!

The second dance is a new solo that I will be showing once a month.

It’s called Dog Dance.

I am presenting it for the first time on Friday, October 23rd at 7pm at Floorspace in Boulder.

It will be $7 and I don’t know yet if it will be appropriate for kids, so I will get back to you about that one.

Your dance mission for the week is to dance while you are working, whatever that means to you.

Notice how it makes you feel.

Notice your breath.

Notice how your body is making contact with the earth.

Here is a fun song to dance to while you are at work:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tbNmQNjyNZI

I would love to hear from you, so post any comments you have here.

And share this newsletter, if you wish, with friends, or on facebook or instagram or whatever social media platform that you enjoy.

Lastly, if you are not already signed up, do that here, so that you will get this newsletter delivered directly to your inbox every Wednesday.

As always, With Warmth and Jivey Vibes Joanna of Joanna and The Agitators sweetly agitating/persistently upending www.joannaandtheagitators.com

3 Simple Steps to Obtain the Perfect Dancing Body

I have spent most of my life cultivating the perfect dancing body, and I thought it was high time I shared some of my documented and highly flouted research on how to obtain the most perfect dancing body with you, my beloved reader.

Please know, that these 3 steps have been tested on over a million miceysubjects who were put through a rigorous series of dance steps - in a maze no less - in order to determine if indeed, they could obtain a dancing body, and the results are in:

They did it.

All of them.

All 1,000000000000 mice came out of the maze, dancing, with the most perfect dancing bodies.

This fact alone gives me license to guarantee that you too can have a dancing body, if you just put your mind to it!

This is not for the faint of heart, so get your grit on ladies, and let’s get dancing!

(Music cue:  That awful Justin Bieber song, What do you Mean starts playing NOW.  Please don’t google it.)

Step Number 1:

To obtain the perfect dancing body and to get into dancing shape FAST: Dance.

Step Number 2:

To obtain the perfect dancing body that gets you into dancing shape FAST: Dance.

Step Number 3:

To obtain the perfect dancing body that gets you into dancing shape FAST: Dance.

No more talk about bikini bodies people.

This is the season for dancing bodies.

Pack up those strappy sundresses, and get out your wool socks, your soft pants, and your favorite t-shirt.  The one with the holes in it.

Lay down on the floor and getting ready to work, hard.

Rest.

Breath.

Notice.

Maybe even fall asleep.

And then watch your body instantly transform itself into the most perfect, the most dependable, and the most trustworthy dancing body that you ever could have imagined.

Your dance mission for the week is to repeat this mantra 3 times, every morning before you get out of bed:

I have a body.

I dance.

I have a dancing body.

I have a perfect dancing body.

To celebrate all of your hard dancing work, treat yourself to a hamburger, fries, and a chocolate milkshake.

Side note:  Some of you have asked how I come up with ideas to write this newsletter every week.  I have never  known how to answer this question, before now.

This week’s newsletter’s deadline was approaching, and I had no idea what I was going to say, when all of a sudden a very friendly man gave me the perfect idea.

We were talking about what we both did for work. 

When I told him I was a dancer, his response was:  “But you don’t have a dancer’s body.  How can you be a dancer?”

And that was that, this week’s newsletter came on like a freight train.

And yes, I did treat myself, quite happily, to a hamburger, french fries, and a chocolate milkshake after that conversation. 

Then I went to rehearsal and had a most fabulous time, dancing.

With Warmth and Jivey Vibes,

Joanna

of

Joanna and The Agitators

sweetly agitating/persistently upending

The Next President of the USA Needs To Be A Dancer

Politicians and their bodies.

Do I even attempt to dive into this pool of pariahs?

My first impulse is to cringe - I want to say no, let’s not even make the attempt - but it seems I cannot, for the life of me, stop myself.

So let us - as a brigade of madcap seekers - let us consider this:

What would happen if our politicians were embodied?'

But then I have to stop and reconsider immediately, because what does that even mean, “embodied”, and embodied how, and by whose standards, and by what authority?

For this particular conversation about this massive topic, with it’s inherent hypocrisies and inconsistencies, the lens which we will be looking through is my own.  

It is imperfect and faulty, stock piled with my own biases and sensibilities.

It is blemished and unrefined, influenced by my history and my experience on this planet.

I take full responsibility.

So imagine this:

The White House - with it’s bowling allies, movie theaters, decadent hallways, and fragile cups of tea - what, just what would happen if there were a White House Dance Studio, and dancing was a required part of the start to everyone’s day?  

What if?

Let’s take it one step further:

What if it wasn’t just any kind of dancing that took place in The White House, what if it was the kind of dancing that emerges from deep within the body, rather than from an already established form?

To be more specific, what if the dancing that took place in The White House was the kind of dancing where everyone took off their suits, their pantyhose, their high heels and ties, and instead put on soft pants and t-shirts.  

And what if all of the politicians and all of the leaders, and all of the people with all of the money who are making the decisions which corrode and corrupt a true democracy, what if they all lay down on the floor, together, and began by simply noticing the quality, the length, and the depth of their breath?

And then what if, from this place, they began to notice if there was an impulse to move, or not.  

And then what if, from this place, they choose to follow that impulse, or not.  

And then what if they continued on like this for some time: 

Noticing their breath. Noticing their impulse. Feeling their body in connection with the earth. Sensing the others in the room.

What would happen then?

Would decisions about health care, school lunches, net neutrality, gun control, Guantánamo Bay, the prison system, climate change - and so much more - would those decisions be considered in a slightly different manner, with a slightly different outcome?

Would greed subside?

Would intelligent and thoughtful consideration of all beings become more important than profit? 

Would we consider implementing a restorative justice system rather than sticking with the punitive punishment one we currently have?

Would every child’s well-being be in the forefront of every decision made?

I know this is a very simplistic view of an extremely complicated political situation, but I do think that the answer to all of these questions - and there are way more questions to ask - is YES.

If every day, or every other day, or even once a week, our politicians and world leaders put on their soft pants and lay down on the floor together to take the time to notice their breath leading them to their bodies, their creativity, and their imagination?

Then YES, I do think more considerate and compassionate decisions would be made, simply because there would be space to vision the world with the same creativity, the same imagination, and the same embodiment that those politicians felt for themselves, lying down on the floor in their soft pants.

Your dance mission for the week is to put on your soft pants and dance while you are watching, listening, or reading the news.  

Dance before the news.

Dance during the news.

Dance after the news. 

Let me know what happens here.

I am very curious, and will be waiting to hear from you.

If you like what you read, would you share this newsletter on Facebook?  

And would you share it with a friend? 

And would you encourage that friend to sign-up through my website so they too can get these emails every Wednesday?

Thank you so much in advance!

And OMG:  

The first class of the Fall Dance Session took place yesterday and it was so much fun.

The attention to detail, the clarity, and the cosmic curiosity happening in the room was magical.

The grit, grace, and humor?

Oh my.

it was simply a stunning beginning because of everyone’s willingness to show up, to wait, and then to relish in what unfolded.

There are only a few spots left in class, so if you want to join me, you still can.  

Click on this link to register, or email me if you have any questions.

And if you have a friend that might be interested, send them on over and I will get them all set up and ready to go.

With Warmth and Jivey Vibes,

Joanna

of

Joanna and The Agitators

sweetly agitating/persistently upending

www.joannaandtheagitators.com

Soften Your Belly

I am in Ouray, CO., visiting an old friend, eating lunch after an exquisite hike. We are talking about soft bellies.

We are talking about how a soft belly gives you access to the juice - the life force - that drives creativity and imagination.

When I was in my prime as a ballet dancer

(which was never very prime)

and the ballet teacher walked around the room giving corrections, I would pull my belly way in toward my spine as she walked past me.

The minute her back was turned, I would let everything hang out again.

She would circle the room, come up behind me, tap my belly, and I would suck everything in.

When she walked away, I let everything go, and took as many breaths as I could before she circled around again.

Suck in.

Hang out.

Suck in.

Hang out.

That’s how it went for years.

And then this happened.

It doesn’t have to do with a soft belly.

It has to do with the soul.

I was at the barre, extending my left leg in a developé, and the teacher came up right next to me and said:

“Let me see your soul.”

I dug deep inside of myself to show her my soul.

She said:

“That isn’t your soul. Show me your soul.”

I reached as far down as I could, and wrenched my soul up from the depths of the marly floor beneath my right foot.

She said:

“That’s not your soul either. Stop messing around and wasting my time. Just show me your soul.”

I extended my left leg as high and as far as I could, summoning my soul to make an appearance from the deepest part of my leotarded body.

She grabbed my foot and said “I want to see your sole, is that so difficult to understand?”

Then turned my left foot out so that she could see the bottom of it.

Oops.

My belly button was sucked in so tight throughout this faulty encounter, it just about poked its way out the back of my spine.

Your dance mission for the week is to notice when you are pulling your navel toward your spine, and notice when you are letting your belly be soft.

Let’s try it right now:

Sitting here reading this blog, is your belly soft or are you pulling your navel in toward your spine?

Just notice.

If you are pulling your navel in right now, try to let it soften and release.

How does that feel?

With Warmth and Jivey Vibes, Joanna of Joanna and The Agitators sweetly agitating/persistently upending www.joannaandtheagitators.com

BIG PS TODAY: Do you wanna come dance with me this fall? If so, register here. And do it soon. Classes start on Tuesday, Sept 1st and I am almost all filled up.

If you have any questions or concerns about class, feel free to email me.

xo jo

what is "real" dancing?

A long long time ago (isn’t that the first line to a famous song?), I got invited to teach dance in a one room schoolhouse in Cortez, CO.

It was like pulling teeth.

After each class, the smallest child there would ask, “But when are going to do some real dancing?”

And all the others would chime in, “Yes, when? We want to do real dancing.”

Each time this happened — which was every day, multiple times a day — I would say, in my calm and soothing teacher voice:

“This is real dancing. It is just different than what you are used to. Try to have an open mind about what we are exploring together in our dancing.”

And then this very small child would cross her arms over her chest, scowl at me, and say:

“No. This is not real dancing. I know what real dancing is, and this isn’t it.”

I would look around the room and see 15 little faces scowling back at me.

We went back and forth like this for awhile, all of us getting more and more frustrated, until I finally had the insight to ask what they meant by “real” dancing.

The smallest child immediately jumped up, grabbed the hands of her classmates, and they all started skipping in a circle with huge smiles on their faces.

“Oh!!!! You mean, “REEL” dancing!”

“Yes!” She bellowed.

We spend the last few days of my time there skipping in different formations while holding hands.

I stopped pulling teeth, and instead, relaxed into what was naturally emerging.

So what is “real” dancing anyway?

This scenario happened many years ago, but I still get asked this question all the time.

I also get told to change the name of what I am doing to movement instead of dance.

And since I’m a Taurus, I’m not changing the name, no matter how many times you ask.

I’ll keep pulling teeth on this one. Because what I am doing - what we are doing - is real dancing.

No, I don’t emphasize big leaps or spins, though if that happens, YAY for big leaps and spins. No, I don’t emphasize quick and complicated footwork, but if that happens, YAY for quick and complicated footwork. No, I don’t emphasize flourishes and high kicks, but if that happens, YAY for flourishes and high kicks. And no, I don’t emphasize making a pretty line. Crickets. I don’t care for pretty lines…sorry. Tangent:

I was on a dance excursion awhile back, and the photographer working with us kept yelling, “Extension ladies! Extend Please! Extend! Let me see a pretty line. “ Things did not end well. I have a long history of training in ballet and modern dance, and I wouldn’t give it up for the world.

I’m grateful for the hours I spent pliéing, barrel turning, and tour jetíng.

But my questions now, my curiosities now, my interests now, after all those years of training are:

Where does the impulse to move come from? How does it settle in my body? How does it arrange itself in space and in relationship to others? What sort of movement/stillness/sound is bubbling up inside me that is beyond form? What sort of movement/stillness/sound is bubbling up inside me that is inherent in form? What impulse/instinct/urge/inclination/sensibility is driving the dance? Is it the 1st or the 10th impulse that I act on? Is it the 2nd or the 700th? How do I listen and what I am listening to? How is my dancing connected to the larger world, outside of the dance studio?

To me, this is real dancing.

Living, breathing, and bona fide dancing.

Your dance mission for the week is to notice which impulses you move from.

Let me break it down a bit more:

Lie down.

Feel your body making contact with the earth.

Notice your breath.

Notice if there is a desire to move.

Notice if there is a desire to be still.

Notice if there is a desire to make sound.

Notice when you feel an impulse - to be still, to move, to make sound - and then notice if you follow that impulse or if you let it float on by.

Notice again when you feel an impulse - to be still, to move, to make sound - and then notice if you follow that impulse or if you let that one float on by.

Now, just see what happens.

Let the noticing soften.

Let your attention to your impulses soften, and give yourself permission to step into the dance, whatever kind of dance it is, that is already there, just waiting for you to begin.

Here is some music to get you started.

On another note:

My last free dance class of the season is happening on Saturday, August 22nd from 10-12pm at The Boulder Circus Center.

Will I see you there?

I hope so!

With Warmth and Jivey Vibes, Joanna of Joanna and the Agitators sweetly agitating/persistently upending www.joannaandtheagitators.com

ps. To register for the fall session that is starting in a just a few weeks, click on the link below. There is paypal button about halfway down the page where you can sign-up for the amount of classes that work for you.

http://joannaandtheagitators.com/dance-classes/adult-dance-classes/

pps if you want to leave a comment on the blog, I would love that. You can do that here. You can also email me directly, that works too.

ppps. Feel free to share this newsletter with a friend, or facebook or twitter or instagram or pinetrest or in the town square.

xo jo

"We ate the birds."

I had a dream the other night that the animals were pounding at our doors, demanding we give them back their land.The morning after I had that dream, I received an email from an old friend in Wales with this quote: “We ate the birds. We ate them. We wanted their songs to flow up through our throats and burst out of our mouths, and so we ate them. We wanted their feathers to bud from our flesh. We wanted their wings, we wanted to fly as they did, soar freely among the treetops and the clouds, and so we ate them. We speared them, we clubbed them, we tangled their feet in glue, we netted them, we spitted them, we threw them onto hot coals, and all for love, because we loved them. We wanted to be one with them. We wanted to hatch out of clean, smooth, beautiful eggs, as they did, back when we were young and agile and innocent of cause and effect, we did not want the mess of being born, and so we crammed the birds into our gullets, feathers and all, but it was no use, we couldn’t sing, not effortlessly as they do, we can’t fly, not without smoke and metal, and as for the eggs we don’t stand a chance. We’re mired in gravity, we’re earthbound. We’re ankle-deep in blood, and all because we ate the birds, we ate them a long time ago, when we still had the power to say no.” — Margaret Atwood I turned off my computer and thought of everything I had planned to do that day. I took out my to-do list, and in tribute to Margaret, I ate it. Then I lay down on the floor and started rolling slowly through the house: I rolled through the living room and kitchen and dining room. I rolled through the bedroom and the bathroom, and then up the stairs and into the attic. It was in the attic that I stopped rolling, and started waiting. For what, I don’t know, I was just waiting.

Nothing happened.

No movement came.

No inspiration.

No whirling dervishes.

No dancing.

I lay in the attic all morning: Nothing.

Except for this:

I remembered a story that my best friend and roommate in college, who passed away many years ago - told me one night on our porch while were still in school, and studying for finals:

My friend was hiking on Mt. Kenya with a group of 3 or 4 others.

The group heard a rustle and a roar.

They all scrambled up the nearest trees, but one of the guys didn’t make it.

He was gored and trampled by a water buffalo.

It was my friend who stayed with him that night while the others went to get help.

She banged pots and pans all night long to keep the animals away.

She peed around the perimeter of their tarp.

She boiled water.

She cleaned his wounds.

When he asked why his head was so cold, she didn’t know what to say.

He had lost a good amount of hair immediately after the attack, and there were large bald spots on his normally youthful head of hair.

She wrapped his head up in her t-shirt and tried to keep him warm.

She spoon fed him and helped him when he needed to pee.

She put pressure on his wounds - was it his spleen or his liver that got punctured through? I can’t remember - with her socks, and then her shorts. When those items of clothing got soaked through with blood, she used her underwear, to keep the blood inside of him.

When help finally arrived, when he survived to tell the tale, when the local press came to interview the group, someone else, another man in that group of 3 or 4, he took credit for all that my friend had done. He told the newspapers that he had been the one to stay up for two nights, banging the pots and the pans to keep the wild animals at bay.

When she finally cleaned her clothes of all the blood and wrung them out to dry, she crumbled to the floor and cried.

This isn’t my story to tell.

This is her story.

I wish she were here to tell it to you herself.

Your dance mission for the week is to roll through your house and then to stop for awhile and wait.

See what happens.

If something happens - a dream, an image, a story, a dance - that's good.

If nothing happens?

That's just as good.

Maybe even better.

With Warmth and Jivey Vibes, Joanna of Joanna and the Agitators sweetly agitating/persistently upending www.joannaandtheagitators.ocm

So many PS’s today, I can’t keep count:

PS #1:

THE FREE DANCE CLASS ARE COMING UP NEXT WEEK!

CAN YOU TELL I”M EXCITED SINCE I CAN”T TAKE MY FINGER OFF THE ALL - CAPS BUTTON?

Will you be there??

I hope so!!

Tuesday, August 18th from 11-1pm Saturday, August 22nd from 10-12pm

Both are at The Boulder Circus Center

To reserve your spot, of if you have any questions, email me.

Feel to bring a friend along with you.

PS #2:

THE FALL DANCE SESSION IS STARTING IN 3 WEEKS!

(I'm excited about this one too it seems....)

I'm just about done lining up the ducks, so I'll have all the info for you next week, if not sooner.

What I do know so far, is this:

Classes will be on:

Tuesdays: 11-1pm Thursdays: 11-1pm Saturdays: 10-12pm

The session will run from Tuesday, Sept 1st-Saturday, December 19th.

Notice it’s a 15 week session this time, rather than my usual 8.

This upcoming session is already starting to fill, so email me if you are interested, and I will make sure to hold a space for you.

If you’re not sure if the class is a match for you, come check out the FREE classes to get a sense of how I work -- see above. PS #3

Someone emailed me last week after receiving my last newsletter asking if it was okay if she shared the newsletter with a friend.

The answer is an overwhelming YES.

Share it with this social media phenomena that I don’t fully understand, share it through email. snail mail, or while sipping your afternoon tea.

The more people you share it with, the better.

As always, post your comments here, or email me directly.

You know how much I love hearing from you.

PS #4

That’s all.

Have a wonderful week.

xo jo

NOW WHAT?

This past Sunday, Glen and I watched a Talking Heads video on youtube of David Byrne singing Naive Melody (This Must Be The Place) from the early 80’s, I think?  

And it was amazing.

It was simple, clear, and essential.

It felt exactly right that those sounds and those words would come from that human being, in that way, and at that time.

And in this way, the generosity of the work was tremendous.

Then Glen and I watched a more recent version of the song, from 2012, and….hmm. I was disappointed.

Byrne was trying to be who he was 35 years ago instead of honoring who he is right now, 35 years later.

And so it felt contrived, affected, and not so generous.

Since watching these two videos on Sunday night, I have had repeated conversations with friends, in class, and at rehearsal, about why we yearn to do what we did in the past, instead of becoming giddy, excited, and abundant about who we are RIGHT NOW.

For me, some of the most beautiful, cell expanding, and life affirming moments come when someone is steeped in who they are, and the art - whatever form it takes - comes from that place, that elemental place, within their own being.

That moment might come from a student in class rolling towards the rest of the class with both eyes wide open. It might come from a performer on the stage imitating the sounds of a crying baby. It might come from someone walking down the street jigging to the music pouring out of their headphones. And, it might come from David Byrne, tipping the light back and forth while singing “Guess I must be havin’ fun”, NOT because he thinks that we, the audience, hope he will tip the light back and forth, but because how could he NOT tip that light back and forth?

I want to address this head-on with you, because this idea that we have to have the agility, strength, and verve of our younger dancing/singing selves just isn’t so helpful, and it holds us back from cherishing who we are right now, at whatever age that is.

It stops us from taking the time to discover what it is that we have to offer NOW, with the history and experience that we hold, rather than trying to replicate what we had 5,15 or 35 years ago.

I think I must have heard this story when I was around 18, and taking class with Remy Charlip at The Colorado Dance Festival. He spoke about the time he took out full page ad in the San Francisco Chronicle that said, “So you can lift your leg up to your ear? Good for you. NOW WHAT??”

And I guess that is what I am asking myself too.

NOW WHAT?

What is essential?

What am I saying?

What is emerging in my dancing -- from my very innermost being -- that cannot be named?

And how does all of that connect to the larger world?

If you too have similar questions, (or if you don’t, but are still curious), why don’t you come dance with me in a few weeks?

It’s free, so there's really nothing to loose.

A student of mine just spoke to a friend about the class she is taking with me, and the friend said something along the lines of:

“So, this is also a class for people who are not comfortable in their bodies, but that want to be.”

Yes, that’s true.

Having comfort in one’s body is not a prerequisite for joining the class. In fact, not being comfortable is an incredibly wonderful place to start.

The TWO FREE classes are happening on:

Tuesday, August 18th from 11-1pm

&

Saturday, August 22nd from 10-12pm

Both at the upstairs at The Boulder Circus Center at 4747 N. 26th Street.

Email me if you plan to come.

I would love to see you there. Feel free to bring a friend.

And, as in every newsletter I send, post any comments you have here.

Share this newsletter with a friend, share it on social media, and share it anywhere else you can think of so that we can all start to have a larger conversation with each other.

As always,

With Warmth and Jivey Vibes,

Joanna

of

Joanna and The Agitators

sweetly agitating/persistenly upending

www.joannaandtheagitators.com

skin

Last week, when I was staying at a hotel right across the street from Disneyland, I had a dream that I was having dinner with Sandra Bland and Ta-Nehisi Coates.

We spoke about the systemic racism in this country.

We spoke about police brutality.

We spoke about dying.

We spoke about what sort of letter Sandra would write to her children, and what sort of letter I would write to mine.

We each held up sheets of construction paper - white, brown, and black - against our faces and against our skin.

We spoke about that moment when I saw a brown man walking outside of the gates to Disneyland and assumed he was a worker there.  

And when two children with mickey mouse ears on their heads ran to him and jumped into his arms, I was surprised and ashamed that I had made an assumption about this man based on nothing other than the color of his skin.

Yesterday in class, we imagined initiating the movement from our skin, and we all wondered how to do that, and what it meant, and why would we do that and what did it matter anyway?

Today, I am far away from Disneyland, far away from my dream, and far away from these things that Sandra Bland, Ta-Nehisi Coates. and I spoke of while we were eating dinner together.

But am I really that far away?

I don’t know.

I don’t know how to answer that question, or how to even ask the right question.

All I know is that I keep smacking up against my ignorance and my illiteracy. 

And so I initiate the movement from my skin, and know that it means nothing.

I don’t know how to bring what I am saying full circle.

I don’t know how to wrap this newsletter up in a clever fashion.

I can’t find the symmetry.

I can’t find the center.

I think the closest I can get to giving you some kind of take away is…I’m sorry, I just don’t think there is a take away with this one.

Your dance mission for the week is to read.  

Read up on what is going on with Sandra Bland. 

Read Ta-Nehisi Coates’ book Between The World and Me.   

Read the newspaper, listen to the radio, host a dinner party and talk about what is happening in the world. 

Help me find the take way from all of this.  

And then dance, and let this dance be initiated from the skin.

Feel free to pass this newsletter along to a friend, and then share it on your favorite social media platform.

Finally, make any comments you have here - you know my favorite part about sending this out each week is hearing what you have to say about all of this.

With Warmth and Jivey Vibes, Joanna of Joanna and The Agitators sweetly agitating/persistently upending www.joannandtheagitators.com

ps. SAVE THE DATE:

Upcoming FREE DANCE CLASSES happening on Tuesday, August 18 from 11-1pm and Saturday, August 22 from 10-12pm.  Both will take place at the Boulder Circus Center.  

I hope you can join me

On Tuesday, July 21st, from 11-1pm, I am offering a FREE dance class for the community.

Come join me to remember and experience the joy, the rest, the expansiveness, and the delight of being in a body.

This FREE class will be at the Boulder Circus Center in the upstairs studio, and I would love to have you there.

Email me if you would like to come, and I will hold a space for you.

Feel free to bring a friend.

For this week’s newsletter, I wanted to give you a taste of what we all do in that upstairs studio — far out in the fields, on the edge of the city.

Sometimes we write, and it might go something like this:

“When I move I am just a little taste of delicious”  — Paulette Fire

or this

“When I move I see the world around me, When I am still I see the world in me.” — Christine Crotzer

Sometimes we imagine there is a carpet of earth covering our bodies.

Some people imagine the sea is covering them, some people imagine they are cloaked by a green field.  Some people imagine mountains, or a city, or a town.  Some people don’t imagine anything at all:  they just feel the cool weight of the earth blanketing their bodies.

Sometimes the class gets loud and wild and raucous.

Sometimes it is quiet.

Sometimes I stick with my plan.

Sometimes I don’t.

My lesson plans look something like this:

• Sky Inside
• Drones and Durational Work
• 1,000 Bales of Hay
• Shapes in Space
• Read poem; Eat chocolate

Here is a list of some of the things I say over and over, in every class.

I never get tired of saying them.

I think because I am saying them to myself as much as I am saying them to my students.

You can say them to yourself too, when you are at home or at work or waiting for the bus:

1. Imagine that your tongue is thick and wide.
2. Imagine that your eyes are heavy in your eye sockets.
3. Notice which parts of your body are touching the earth, and which parts are not.
4. Notice the quality of that touch.
5. Notice your breath: How long is the inhale?  The exhale?  The gaps in between?
6. What are you doing with your eyes?  You don’t need to change anything, just notice. 
7. Notice the sensations in your body.
8. There is no right or wrong, you are just staying curious about what is emerging.
9. Remember that the dance is already there…waiting.  All you have to do is step in. 
10. Imagine that the stars are inside of your body, because I think in some sense, they are.

Some people have been dancing with me since I started teaching in Boulder.  They have been coming to class once a week for 12, almost 13 years now.  

(When I think about that, I wonder what has changed in my teaching since then, and what is the same.

I will have to ask them).

Some people have been coming to class for a few years, a few months, or they might have just started this summer.

What I love, what I can’t believe actually, is that I am still moved so deeply by what I see and experience in the classroom. 

I might pull an old exercise out of my bag of tricks that I have been doing for years upon years upon years and still, I am left breathless and stunned by what I am seeing and experiencing in the dancing.    

It is in these moments, these many many moments, that the dancing becomes the ground from which everything else emerges. 

Your dance mission for the week is to imagine you are covered by a blanket of earth, and to notice what happens in your body, your breath, and your imagination.

I like to listen to  Sigur Rós - Var   when I am blanketed by the imaginary earth on top of me, and the real earth below me.

After you have danced with your carpet of earth, post about your experience here.  I would love to hear how it went for you.

And then share this newsletter with a friend.

Share it on facebook or twitter or at the kitchen table.

And oh yes,

Email me back if you are planning on coming to the FREE class on Tuesday, July 21st.

With Warmth and Jivey Vibes,

Joanna

of

Joanna and the Agitators

sweetly agitating/persistently upending

brainy beautiful fun

Something is shifting.

In this dance.

Some sort of revival is taking place.

Some sort of quiet hoopla.

I can feel it in the sweetness, delicacy, and verve of moving through space here on this earth.

I can sense it in all layers of reality that float in and out, sometimes entering in with a piercing clarity, and sometimes hanging out around the edges, just watching.

Yesterday, during a SPILL Movement lab 

(SPILL is made up of Cortney McGuire, Chrissy Nelson, Laura Ann Samuelson and I.   I can’t remember what SPILL stands for.   We came up with something we all really liked and never wrote it down.  Or if we did, I can’t find the piece of paper where we wrote it down.  Maybe it was Somatics/Performance/Improvisation/Lab/Lab??).

I sat behind a plant and pulled dead leaves off, crunched them up in my hand and threw them at Cortney and Chrissy.    

And that was IT. 

I understood the world in that moment and I understood how my body fit in with all of the other bodies that have existed in this universe:  past, present and future.

The dancing is expanding and a portal to something other than what we already know is available on a more consistent and regular basis.

Is it quantum mechanics or string theory or cellular reconfiguration?

I have no idea.

I just know that I am dancing, and that something is shifting.

Your dance mission for the week is to dance in silence for 3 minutes, then dance to this song:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MKhpsfpnWw0 and then dance in silence again for as long as you want.

Notice how you feel, notice your breath, follow what is emerging.

Please share this with two friends:  One who dances a lot, and another that doesn’t dance at all.

See what how they respond.

If they like it, and are intrigued, have them sign-up here to receive a weekly email from me.

And post it on any and all social media platforms, if you wish.

Then head on over hear to post a response, as you know how much I love hearing from you.

With Warmth and Jivey Vibes,

Joanna

of

Joanna and The Agitators

sweetly agitating/persistently upending

PS:

A few spots have opened up for the summer session. If you are interested in experiencing some brainy, beautiful fun, email me and I will get you all set up.

xo jo

natural disasters and the improvising artist, part 3

More than a dancer or a choreographer, I’m an improviser at heart. I love to see what arises at any given moment and to follow that reality for as far as it will take me.

Which might be dancing.

But it also could be singing, wrestling, continuously spinning, or moving heavy rocks from here to there.

It might be gobbling down my dinner with loud oinking sounds (that happened last night).

It might be growling the lyrics to Regina Spektor’s “You’ve got Time” when I watch Orange is the New Black (that happened last night too).

It might be lying on the floor in Andrew Marcus's School of Disappearance and moving so slowly that I can feel my cells expanding.

And yet when it comes to natural disasters, I don’t know if and how and when my improvisational instincts take over, and if they ever do.

I brought this question up a few months back after having a fantastic conversation with my good friend Jill Sigman when we were talking about how improvisers have a natural and innate sense of dealing with the unknown.

Which I think is true, but when it is that scary, charged and devastating, I just don’t know what is improvisation, what is adrenaline, and what is pure animal instinct. And maybe I don’t need to know, maybe they are all the same thing on some level.

A few months ago, I heard this on the radio:

There were two hospitals in New Orleans during Hurricane Katrina that dealt with the flood in two very different ways.

One hospital improvised throughout the disaster and all of their patients were okay. It was hard and scary and unknown, but the staff just kept going, methodically and patiently, improvising their way through an untenable situation. In the end, everyone was fine.

One hospital did not improvise throughout the disaster, and due to an inability to “think outside the box” the head doctor there began ordering “mercy killings” for the hard to evacuate patients.

When I think about going through my own natural disasters, a fire in 2003 and then flood in 2013, I see my own inability to think outside the box — or to even know how to find the friggin’ box — and instead I just barrel on through as best I as I can, crashing through the chaos.

So I am practicing.

Practicing so that when the next Natural Disaster hits, which I think it will, I crash a little less.

Practicing so that I find the box this time and decide whether to step daintily inside, or to crush it with my bare hands.

Practicing so when I have to evacuate, I take the time to look around me and see what is there before it is gone.

Practicing so that I grab my hiking boots and the handmade quilt instead of the Oreos.

(During the fire, Glen and I didn’t take anything with us except for a box of Oreos.

We had enough time to pack up Glen’s entire van with all of our stuff from a 500 square foot log cabin.

We didn’t do it.

We grabbed the Oreos and left).

Practicing so that when the next Natural Disaster hits - or the next shooting happens, or the next time someone gets sick, or things crumble in a way I wasn’t expecting - I will have the where withal to understand that I am always stepping into the unknown.

And maybe this time I will crash a little less.

Your dance mission for the week is to lie down on the floor, notice your breath, and stay still for as long as you want.

If/and when you are ready, begin to move, and notice how you feel.

With Warmth and Jivey Vibes, Joanna of Joanna and the Agitators sweetly agitating/persistently upending www.joannaandtheagitators.com

3 simple steps to end all suffering

Did you think this was spam?

Or a virus?

Nah, it’s just me!

I can’t tell you how to end all suffering!

I sure wish I could.

Wouldn’t that be something.

But I can tell you how to start improvising.

I can’t do it in 3 steps though.

I have to do it in 10.

Ready??

Great, here we go:

1.    Notice your breath.

2.    Notice where your eyes are.

3.    Notice the sensations in your body.

4.    On your exhale, move.

5.    On your inhale, be still.

6.    During the gaps between the inhale and exhale, notice what you hear.

7.    Trust that you know what to do.

8.    Keep going.

9.    Look up, look down, look from one side and then the other.  Notice how the looking can lead your body through space

10.  Now close your eyes, and start dancing for just 10 seconds.

How did that feel?

Try  the 10 steps again.

1     Notice your breath.

2.    Notice where your eyes are.

3.    Notice the sensations in your body.

4.    On your exhale, move.

5.    On your inhale, be still.

6.    During the gaps between the inhale and exhale, notice what you hear

7.    Trust that you know what to do.

8.    Keep going.

9.    Look up, look down, look from one side and then the other.  Notice how the looking can lead your body through space.

10.  Now close your eyes, and start dancing, but this time dance for 30 seconds.

Now give yourself one whole minute to see what arises.

Start from lying down on the floor in an x position, or sitting in a chair, or just standing in the middle of your kitchen.

Whatever you want to do, right now and at this very moment, do it.

Do you want to skip, twirl, be still, or lift your arms as slowly as you can to make bird wings?

Do you want to flap your bird wings, shake your head back and forth, or bark like a dog?

That was fantastic.

I think you have the beginning of a solo.

Okay, now I want you to start again, and this time you are going to notice what arises for the next 5 minutes.

Are you swooping? Are you still? or Are you scared?

Are you high stepping? Are you humming? or Are you making kissing noises out the window at the neighbor?

Interesting…..

Now do it for 10 minutes.  

Start from lying down on the floor in an x position, or sitting in a chair, or just standing in the middle of your kitchen.

Set a timer for 10 minutes.

Follow your body and your sensation and your delight and your instinct.

Was there any type of uproar or was it quiet?

Do you want to do it again??

You do?

Okay.

Do it again.   And again. And again.

That is how to start improvising.

No, I didn’t end all suffering today.  

I’m really sorry about that.

But I hope I got your improvising.

Because in a very tiny way -- and sometimes in a huge and gigantic way that I don't know to articulate -- I think improvising is essential.

It won't ever end all suffering, but it might make it a bit less painful. 

As always, I love hearing from you.

Post your comments here, and then share this on social media or with a friend. 

With Warmth and Jivey Vibes, Joanna of Joanna and The Agitators sweetly agitating/persistently upending www.joannaandtheagitators.com

is dancing enough?

I come back to this question again and again:

Is dancing enough?

On one level, yes, it is enough. 

It is the only thing that makes sense to me and it is the only thing I understand.

But on another level, no, it is not enough — not even close.

It has never been enough, because what is?

Praying?

Setting an intention?

Hoping?

Believing in the Universe?

Watching Jon Stewart?

When I was in college, I got invited to be part of a weekend long dance intensive with some guest artists who were visiting our school.

That same weekend my best from high school had surprised me by flying out from Colorado to come stay with me for the weekend.

I went to my advisor to explain the situation and to see if I could miss a few hours of the residency since my friend was visiting and I wanted to spend time with her.

She said: 

“You have to decide right now if you want to be a dancer.  Because if you do, it has to be more important than anything else you do in the world.  It has to be more important than any relationship.  It has to be more important than your family.   It has to be more important than any friend you have, visiting for the weekend.

You must dedicate your life to The Dance!!!”

(Would it surprise you that my advisor had a small white dog with a small pink bow pinned to its small curly fur, who insisted on sitting on my advisor’s small little lap during our entire meeting? 

I didn’t think so).

It was at that moment that I realized dancing wasn’t enough.

It was something, a big something, but not everything, and certainly not big enough for me to give up everything else to pursue it.

So if dancing is not enough, then what do we do?

We keep dancing.

We keep dancing so that we can face this complicated, devastated, and radiant world.

We keep dancing so that we can see the world clearly and do our part to make it better.

We keep dancing — knowing that it is not enough — and at the same time, knowing that it is all there is.

How did your dance mission go last week of NOT DANCING?

Did you do it?

How did it feel?

Are you ready to start dancing again??

Good! 

Because your dance mission this week is to dance outside, in the open air of summer, somewhere private, so you aren’t worried about being watched.

Listen the sounds around you, feel your feet on the earth, notice what you feel what you feel what you feel.

And breath.

If you are inspired, write a little something and post it here.

I always love hearing about your experience.

AND!

Last chance to sign-up for the summer dance session my friend.

If you have been thinking about it, toying with the idea of it, wondering if it is the right fit for you,  head on over to this link to find out more. 

And then email me, I would be happy to discuss it with you.

With Warmth and Jivey Vibes,

Joanna

of

Joanna and The Agitators

sweetly agitating/persistently upending

stop dancing

I want you to stop dancing.

For a whole week.

Stop doing those little jigs you do in the kitchen while you make dinner.

Stop bouncing up and down on the walking path with the kids.

Stop twirling in the living room when your favorite song comes on the radio.

(Do people even have ACTUAL radios anymore??)

Stop leaping from one lily pad to the next in your neighborhood pond.

Just STOP.

I know, I know…I’m suppose to be encouraging you to dance more — that is what Joanna and The Agitators is all about, right??

(If you’ve been wondering who the  actual “Agitators” are, here is your answer:  The Agitators are all the little people who live in my brain and tell me what to do.  They are very agitating.  And they snore).

For the next two weeks, I want you to stop dancing and do something else.

I know, CRAZY, right?

Do this instead:

Notice when you have an impulse to move.

Notice what it feels like NOT to follow that impulse.

And then chose to:

Ignore everything I just said and dance as much as you want.

Do something else, like gardening or cooking or drawing or playing guitar.

Do something else AND THEN start to leap from one lily pad to the next.

Why?

Because it is the start of summer and I think that calls for a slight shift in how the day is spent.

And

Because I think it is important to take breaks sometimes from habitual patterns and approach them again from a new perspective.

I have taken long breaks from dancing.

Days, weeks, months….even years.

And when I am ready to engage again, I enter into an entirely new dance.

I sense my body in a whole new way.

The space I am moving in seems unusual, and so I encounter new pathways, new relationships, and new impulses.

In this way, novel connections are made.

And in this way, change is created on this planet of ours.

So take your two-weeks off from dancing, and then…

Well, will you look at that!!!

How convenient!

The timing works out just so, doesn’t it?

After your two weeks of no dancing is up, the summer dance session starts!

Who knew???

All of us will be bright eyed and bushy tailed from our dancing break, ready to enter anew.

Click here for all the info.

Registration opened on Monday and classes are already filling.

And oh my, it is an amazing and irreverent and thoughtful and warm and funny and welcoming group of folks who are choosing to take the summer session, which means you will fit right in.

If you are so inclined, would you please share this newsletter with just one person who you know could benefit from joining this vibrant, feisty, and delightful dancing community?

And then share it on all those social media platforms too….twitter and pineglade and facebook and tumbler and instagram and….are there more?? 

Your dance mission is to notice when you want to dance, and then decide if you do or do not follow that impulse.  What happens if you do?  What happens if you don’t?

I would love to hear how it goes, so post your comments here.

With Warmth and Jivey Vibes,

Joanna

of

Joanna and The Agitators

sweetly agitating/persistently upending

www.joannaandtheagitators.com

crying in the closet

I hid in the closet and cried. I was in 9th grade.

I was asked to be the first person in a group building exercise to go into the middle of the circle, and dance.

Instead, I stood in the middle of the circle, and froze.

I felt the fool.

Our intrepid leader said: “But aren’t you a dancer? Come on now, just dance. Show us what you got.”

And so I fled.

I found the darkest, most furthest away corner I could, curled myself up as small as I was able, and cried.

Oh, to be 14 again.

And a leotard - tights wearing 14 at that.

And now, in my soft pants and old t-shirt, I still feel the fool on many a day.

I am still filled with doubt. I still freeze. I still get heart palpitations.

The difference is, I don’t run away to hide in the closet anymore.

I just keep going, because I understand now that this is part of the dancing life.

The unknown and the outrageous.

The fear and the failure.

The unchartered and obscure waters that make this life so appetizing.

This dancing life is made up of millions of moments of fear and fooldum, right alongside trillions of moments of bliss.

This dancing life is made up of 3am sit straight up in bed moments too, because that is when the muse calls.

Always.

Just this morning I got a call from her telling me to put on some Spanx and talk about global warming on an old fashioned phone while making pancakes.

This dancing life is lovingly spent teaching and rehearsing and performing and fundraising and grantwriting, following what is there to follow, whatever that is, and however scary it may be.

This dancing life is earnestly spent listening and and sensing and perceiving and watching and discerning and noting.

This dancing life is rapturously spent dancing.

Your dance mission for the week is to lie down on the floor, and wait to see what happens.

Do you fall asleep? Do you begin to roll slowly? Do you feel antsy? Do you want to get up and start tripping that fantastic light? Do you begin to cry? Do you fantasize about a hamburger and fries? Or do you just wait, and see what emerges?

All of the above are good,

because

All of the above are part of this dancing life we call home.

Here are some songs to hold you, so you don’t spin out like I do into outer space, worried that you might not come back.

1. We Move Lightly By Dustin O’Halloran 2. Concert Ph By Iannis Xenakis 3. Tinge by Michael Gordon 4. Var by Sigur Rós

(Do you know how I can link to these songs directly? If so, can you email me??? Otherwise, you have to look up the songs and download them from itunes or spotify or something like that).

If you feel so moved, post a comment on the here, and then share this blog all over the social media universe.

With Warmth and Jivey Vibes, Joanna of Joanna and The Agitators sweetly agitating/persistently upending

PS: Summer dance classes start on June 13th. Registration is from June 1st-June 12th. Click here for more info. xoxo joanna

leave the pantyhose behind

When I was little, I made a list of jobs that I never ever wanted to have when I grew up. At the very top of the list was:

“Any job where I have to wear pantyhose.”

Last week I heard this great interview about a business based in Yonkers, NY that doesn’t interview or do a background check on any of their employees.

Instead they have people go through a 10 month apprenticeship, and if they cut the mustard they get the job.

They are upending the paradigm and doing it their own way.

They are making their own rules, following their own set of values, and creating a way of being in the world that works for them.

You can do that too.

If you want to.

Yeah, it’s gonna take a lot of work.

Yeah, there will be a lot of trial and error.

And yeah, it’s risky.

Honestly though,

I kinda think that is the way things are going these days, so get on the boat and the rock the hell out of it.

I know I am.

It is scary and unpredictable and I am failing and falling A LOT.

But I wouldn’t have it any other way,

You know why?

Because I never have to wear pantyhose and I get to choose how I am spending my time.

It has taken me a long long time to be able to say that:

I have paid my rent and bought my groceries by counting the number of ball bearings that have fallen out of holes in giant cardboard boxes in a windowless warehouse in Massachusetts for 10 hour stretches, 6 days a week.

I have left my house at 3am with boxes full of healthy heart posters, driving to doctor’s offices all over New England to put up the new posters and take down the old ones with a screw driver and a box of screws.

I have worked as a Lancôme Lady where I was required to wear lingerie and sell make-up to women who didn’t need it (I got fired from that job two weeks after I was hired when I was heard saying that thought out loud to a group of consumers who were clustered around the make-up counter).

I have bussed tables, driven busses, done hours of data entry, changed diapers on all ages of people, mowed lawns, and trimmed trees (I trimmed the wrong tree, and got fired from that job too).

I have served and sold tea and coffee and cookies and ice cream.

I have done all of those jobs, wearing pantyhose, that I never wanted to do.

And now I am rocking the boat, falling into the water, and swimming.

Not gracefully, mind you, but swimming, nonetheless.

I am saying this to you because it is time to burst the bubble and to get out into the world to do what you were meant to do.

Do it in a way that no one has ever done it before.

There really is only one you in the world, and you are going to do it differently than anyone else around you, and we are waiting to see what it is that YOU do.

So be proud.

Be shameless.

Be unrepentant and brash.

Get on the boat, and start rocking.

Your Dance Mission for the week is to dance in unexpected places, at unexpected times.

With Warmth and Jivey Vibes, Joanna of Joanna and The Agitators sweetly agitating/persistently upending

PS:

Have you clicked on this link to check out the summer dance classes yet?

If not, do it now.

Enrollment opens on JUNE 1st and you want to make sure you know what's what so that you can make the best decision for you and your dancing time this summer.

xo jo

I have been on Facebook all morning

I know, I know. 

I am the worst.

I am sitting on the couch, eating leftover spaghetti, in my pajamas, scrolling through Facebook, and enjoying the hell out of it.

Bad monkey.

Very bad monkey.

But look where I just landed  in my vast and intrepid Facebook travels:

Humans of New York:

“God sends me little moments all day long to say: ‘You’re not alone, brother.’

Just a little while ago, an old hunched-over Chinese lady smiled at me with the greatest warmth in her eyes.”

“And you think that was a message from God?”

“I think that was God.”

So, my little apricot,

this is the take away:

Notice the world around you.

Notice the little moments that make you sing.

And see God everywhere, whether you believe in her/him or not.

The sheer force of nature is enough to makes my hair stand on end and leaves me to wonder.

I am re-printing one of the very first newsletters I ever sent out.

It’s about Magic. It’s about the Force of Nature. It’s about Agitating Complacency.

Sitting here in my shlumpy pajamas, eating cold spaghetti, I re-read it myself, and I remembered:

And so, it begins. 

This epic journey  of finding our way back into the giant world of the body.

But how? 

By agitating complacency.

By letting ourselves lose our minds a bit.

By setting aside rational thought, to-do lists, productivity, and ambition.

By seeing magic everywhere.

For those of you in Colorado, do you remember the flood?  How everything shut down? stopped? got quiet?  then loud?  then super quiet again? 

And we were scared and unsure and frantic. 

But also AMAZED at the awesomeness of the water rushing through our towns.

We couldn't control it.

And so at a certain point, a magical quiet descended, as we were trapped inside our homes, peering out the windows at the water.

And there was nothing to do but wait, and see, and breath, and hold on, and then let go.

And I don't really know what I am trying to say here, except that there was a kindness, a generosity, an outpouring of love that moved through the towns.  Neighbors helped neighbors who had never really spoken before.  Families took in other families who had to leave their homes in the middle of the night. We helped each other carry pets, and babies, and kids, and grandmas across the raging river to get everyone safely into the helicopters. 

So

I think

What I am trying to say

is that to find our way back into the body, it means being kind. 

To ourselves and to each other.

And it means watching the wild and unpredictable and scary and AMAZING rush of this life

with curiosity

and

limitless wonder.

That is your DANCE MISSION for the next week:

Be kind.

Hold someone's hand who hasn't had their hand held in a long time.

Offer someone food.

Put on the music that your grandmother wants to hear.

Say hello to someone you don't know.

Ask someone to dance.

And then make a dance. 

A dance that is about seeing the world. 

A dance that is about being kind.

Or don't. 

Ether way, let me know how it goes, what choice you made, and why.

And then leave a note, post a response, send me your passion.

I want to know how what you are experiencing, feeling, understanding, discovering.

Share this blog with a friend, post it on your favorite social media platform, and DANCE DANCE DANCE.

Let's start to agitate complacency, together.

With Warmth and Jivey Vibes,

Joanna

of

Joanna and The Agitators

sweetly agitating/persistently upending

i don't think you can dance

I KNOW YOU CAN.

Last week I asked you to stop whatever you were doing and just move for 10 seconds.

Let’s do that again.

Stop reading and start moving.  

However you want.

In whatever way feels good to you.

Fast or slow or clunky or smooth or unsure, with longing or without, with a calm mind or with a crazy fast moving mind that just won’t stop.

The only rule is to notice your breath, and notice how you feel.

Just do it:

I will count again:

1

potato

2

potato

3

potato

4

potato

5

potato….etc., and you can count the rest.

How did that feel?

Sometimes it's easy to forget how easy it is to just start dancing.

For example:

I was getting my passport stamped at the airport in Norway.

Every time someone came up to his window, the passport stamper guy would say:

“Name.  Age.  Occupation”

in a horribly monotone voice that droned on and on and on.

When it was finally my turn to get my passport stamped and I answered his 3 question, ending with my occupation — choreographer —  the passport stamper guy looked up, gave me a huge smile and said:

“Oh.  You mean like this?”

He stood up and did a dance in his little plastic passport booth.

Yes, I thought to myself.

Exactly passport stamper guy, exactly.

I asked my students the other day to tell me why they dance.

This was one of the responses I got:

“I'm dancing so that I can remember who I am. I'm dancing so that I can re-member my body.”

 —  Paulette Fire.

Yes, I thought to myself.

Exactly Paulette, exactly.

If the passport guy in Norway can dance in his little plastic booth with vitality and bravado, then you can too.

If the reason to dance is to remember who you are, then get to it.   

There are parts of you just longing to be remembered, so don’t ignore them.  They deserve more than that.

The next dancing session that I am offering starts on June 13th.

That gives you a little over a month to dust off your dancing pants and come join me.

What you need to know before I dive into the logistics of how things are going to go this summer, is that this class isn’t for everyone.   

I’m not interested in having you make a pretty line or do it the right way,

and

I’m not interested in having you dance to the right counts,

and

I’m not interested in how high you can leap or how fast you can spin,

and

I’m not interested in your grace or your strength or your agility.

I’m interested in your imagination, your honesty, your curiosity, your instincts, and your dreams.

I’m interested in guiding you to find extraordinary freedom in your body and your dancing.

To take a class with me, you have to be interested in not knowing and be okay with not knowing.

There needs to be a level of trust that one thing will lead to the next.

Or that it won’t, and that is just as good.

There is a feeling in my classes that you can do more than you thought you were capable of doing.

That you are free to try.

The dancing starts to become more then you ever could have imagined.

That is when the magic happens.

If this piques your interest, keep reading to get more information about the logistics of how everything is going to go.

If it doesn’t, or if you aren't local, then scroll on down to the bottom of the page to get your dance mission for the week!!

********************************************************************************************************

I am making a few changes for this upcoming session.

The 1st change is that the price has gone up to reflect the longer class time, added events, and merchant fees.

The 2nd change is the that I am going to try out a punch card system to give you more flexibility in your comings and goings.

The 3rd is that all payments will now be processed through pay pal to make it easier and more convenient for you.

So here’s the dealio:

1. Class Times and Locations: 

The summer session will run from June 13th-August 15th and will take place in the upstairs dance studio (The Trixie Room) at The Boulder Circus Center.

Classes will take place on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays:

Tuesday: 11-1pm

Thursday: 11-1pm

Saturday: 10-12pm

THERE WILL BE NO CLASS ON:

SATURDAY, JULY 4TH

TUESDAY, JULY 21ST

THURSDAY, JULY 23RD

SATURDAY, JULY 25TH

PLEASE NOTE:  Saturday, July 11th will be a site-specific dance day on the St. Vrain Trail, just outside of Jamestown.    This will be a longer day than normal because of the location and nature of this particular class.  Please set aside 5-6 hours that day for class.  This time will include driving time, dancing and writing time, and a picnic lunch.  I will include more details as we get closer to this date.

2. Fees and Punch Card and Make-Ups:

1 class per week (8 classes for the session): $206 

2 classes per week (16 classes for the session): $382

3 classes per week (24 classes for the session): $573

If you don’t use all the punches on your card  by August 15th, you can bring a guest to class to use that extra punch.

The Enrollment Period will be from: June 1st-June 12th.

I will send you a link to register for your punch card of 1, 2, or 3 classes per week throughout June 1st and June 12th so that you have ample time to enroll.

3. Refund Policy:

If you get to the end of the session after participating in all of the classes that you have signed up for and are disgruntled and dissatisfied, then I will happily refund 100% of your money.    

NOTE:  To be eligible for a refund, I require that you attend all 8, 16, or 24 classes that you sign up for when you purchase your punch card.

It is important to me that this class provides you with freedom and magic in your dancing. This means you must show up. 

I know that if you continually show up, you will access parts of yourself that you didn’t know were there, just waiting to be remembered.

If you show up and still don’t get value from your experience, then l will refund you 100% of your  class fee, no questions asked.

4. Performance:

On Saturday, August 15th there will be an informal performance of the work we have been practicing together over the summer.  You choose if you want to participate in this event or not.

And now, finally!!

YOUR DANCE MISSION:  

Your dance mission for the week is to dance to these 3 songs, in any order you want, at anytime of the day that you want.   THEN dance for 3 minutes in silence.  But you have to dance to all 3 songs including your 3 minutes of silence, before you get your next newsletter from me.

1. We Found Love by Calvin Harris and Rhianna

2.. Bowspirit by Balmorhea

3. Fyrsta by Ólafur Arnalds

Then:

Leave a comment about your experience here and share this blog with that one friend who is secretly yearning to dance, but hasn’t broken through.

As Always, 

With so much Warmth,

Joanna

of

Joanna and The Agitators

sweetly agitating/persistently upending

www.joannaandtheagitators.com

stop making excuses

GET OFF OF FACEBOOK AND START DANCING.  

If you just took the time to read that sentence, you can take that same amount of time to dance. Let me be more specific:

At this very moment, stand up from your chair, or stay seated, either works, and move your body RIGHT NOW for 10 seconds.

It doesn’t have to be lovely or dancerly or witty or smart.

You can be as slow or as fast as feels right to you at this moment.

Just move.

And if you are in a public place, do it anyway, ‘cause in the end, who cares?

I’ll count so you don’t have to:

1 Mississippi 2 Mississippi 3 Mississippi 4 Mississippi 5 Mississippi 6 Mississippi 7 Mississippi 8 Mississippi 9 Mississippi 10 Mississippi

Excellent!!!!

I am hearing too many excuses lately about why you aren’t dancing enough.

Something needs to change.

You only live once.

Or depending on what you believe, maybe 2, 3, 4, or 1,000 times.

(I don’t know if I believe in past lives or not, but I had this super strong image the first time I met Glen. I was in a toga walking down a cobbled stone street in ancient Rome. I stopped by an open air shop, and saw a man with a long beard, also in a toga, in the process of inventing the wheel. He caught my eye, smiled, said he needed a break from inventing the wheel, and would I like to join him for some figs. The rest is/was history.)

For this exercise, let’s keep it simple and say:

BECAUSE YOU — IN THIS PARTICULAR HUMAN CONFIGURATION — WILL ONLY BE ON THIS PLANET ONCE.

Ask yourself this:

Are you dancing enough?

When you are on your deathbed:

Will you be filled with contentment, peace, and ease remembering your feet in contact with the earth, feeling your breath as you spin?

or

Will you be wondering why you spent so much time on Facebook rather than tripping the light fantastic. (I just found that phrase in the thesaurus when I was looking up other words for dancing…isn’t it great?)

Difficult question to think about, I know, but super duper important in the larger scheme of things.

And this whole dancing thing?

It isn’t just about you:

Dancing is different than anything else we do in our daily lives in terms of movement.

• It isn’t like going to the gym.
• It isn’t like taking a hike.
• It isn’t like stepping outside for a run or a walk or a snowshoe or a bicycle ride.
• Now don’t get me wrong, I love doing all of these things, and I am not giving them up so I can dance.

Dancing is it’s own thing, and happens in its own time.

It has no beginning and no ending.

It is not about being fast or strong or pretty or graceful or clever or good.

It is circular, which means it is about the truth of what is happening at this very moment and following THAT rather than following the clock or the finish line or the mirror.

When I don’t dance, and I am just doing my hiking and swimming, I am not tapping into the circular part of who I am, which means I am not giving myself fully and generously to the people around me.

But when I am dancing and engaging myself creatively, my focus and curiosity about the wider world grows.

I have more space, time, and desire to give and remain present with my community, my family, and my friends.

I become bountiful.

And when I am bountiful, I begin to engage and partake in making the world a better place.

So let’s figure this out:

Do you want to be dancing more?

____ YES

____ NO

If you answered NO, than thank the high high heavens, and I will see you next week.

If you answered YES, then here is one super simple thing you can do right now to get yourself dancing:

GET OFF OF FACBOOK.

Now, I am not bashing Facebook. I secretly love scrolling through my newsfeed after a long day and seeing what’s up

(OMG did you see the video about the dog skateboarding? Soooooooo cute: https://youtu.be/NtYSuKIljKE ).

Just start to spend a little less time on it.

If you spend roughly one hour a day on Facebook, choose to spend 50 minutes on it instead, and use that extra 10 minutes to dance.

One reason to spend less time on Facebook (and computers in general) is because of the manner in which we focus when we are engaged with technology.

As I am writing this blog, my focus is extremely narrow. I am looking at, and concentrating on, a very narrow piece of the world around me.

And I need to do that right now.

That narrow focus is helpful and beneficial to the task at hand.

However, if I am spending too much time in that narrow focus space, I begin to loose my concentration, my efficiency, my delight, my ease, and my sense of overall well-being.

I can feel it viscerally when I have spent to much time on the computer.

• I start to tighten up.
• My breath gets a little more shallow.
• I start to rush through my work.
• My heart starts beating a little bit faster.
• My creativity, spontaneity, and problem-solving abilities begin to falter.
• Most importantly, it stops being fun, engaging, interesting, and, beneficial. Instead, I am just going through the motions as fast as I can.
• Right after I send this to you, I am going to dance for 10 minutes to widen my focus again before getting back on the computer to answer emails.

Your dance mission for the week is to log out of Facebook 10 minutes sooner than you normally would, put on some amazing music, and dance.

Here are the songs I would recommend (I can’t figure out how to put a link to the actual song here and just send you directly to it….do you know how to do that? If so, can you tell me so I can do it next time?)

1. Uptown Funk by Mark Ronson and Bruno Mars (I just danced to this before starting to work on this blog….it was soooo fun. Once I press send I am going to dance to it again).

2. Var by Sigur Rós

3. Singing Bridge by Rachel’s

Do this for 3 days in a row, and then post your comment here.

Once you have posted your commented (and you know how much I love it when you post a comment) share this on Facebook or Pinterest or whatever, HA HA HA, but make sure to give yourself at least 10 minutes once you have completed your social media tasks,

TO DANCE.

With Warmth and Jivey Vibes, Joanna of Joanna and The Agitators sweetly agitating/persistently upending

are you bendy enough?

Yes.  

You are bendy enough.

Someone said to me yesterday, “I’m a little nervous to take your class because I’m worried I won’t be bendy enough.”

You know what?

There is so much to worry about in this world of ours, that I will take your  "bendy enough worry" and hold onto it for you so that you don’t have to.

I will put it in my pocket and pull it out for its annual dusting — wait, who am I kidding? I haven’t dusted anything since I moved into my house 12 years ago (please don’t share this newsletter with my mother).

I will just keep it in my pocket and let it gather the dust it was meant to gather.

Being bendy is not a pre-requisite for dancing.

Yes, if you want to be a soloist for the New York City Ballet, you need to be bendy, but at this point,  is that really what you want?

The hours are god-awful, you have to wear tights all day long, and I hear you can’t eat cake for breakfast.

So let’s re-think that career path AND the bendy myth.

Instead of thinking of it as trying to get more bendy, let’s start thinking about it as trying to move in a way that feels good to YOU.

And if you are so inclined to take a yoga class to work on expanding your bendy quotient that would be an excellent option.

And if you are more inclined to stay in your pajamas all day eating a bagel and lox, that would be just as  excellent.

Both have their own inherent benefits.

Either works and both will make your more bendy in their own way (eating  bagels with cream cheese, lox, onion, tomato, and eggs? They make your lips very bendy).

I was born inherently bendy, and at this point it has become a bit of a problem for me.

My ligaments are over extended from stretching too far, so now I am  re-working the entire bendy paradigm.

I am also addicted to the sensation of stretching as far as I can, which means I am now struggling with finding comfort in less bendy movement patterns.

It's not going so well.

Lucky you if you are not inherently bendy.

You are working from a place where there is always somewhere to go.

But let's be totally honest:

There are some dance circles where bendy is important.

It is an inherent value in that particular culture.

That’s fine.

I love moving in that sphere sometimes, and I think there are a huge amount of attributes that are satisfying and gratifying about it.

But in the little dance culture I circulate in?

Bendy just isn’t so important.

Some people are bendy, some people aren’t bendy.

Some people are tall, some people aren't tall.

Some people have curly hair, some people don't.

That is what makes this work so endlessly compelling to me.

I am not looking for, or drawn to, bendy.

I am looking for, and am drawn to:  truth, veracity, goodness, humor, absurdity, incongruity, and the instinctive logic that only comes out at night, right before I fall asleep and begin to dream.

Your dance mission for the week is to  follow that night logic.

I don’t know what that means exactly, but I think it means noticing the space between sleep and consciousness.

I think it means  listening to what is humming right below the surface.

That’s where the dancing comes from.

That place we cannot see but that we know is there, just waiting to be remembered.

If you could be so kind as to share this blog with 2 of your unbendy or bendy friends, eat some cake, and then start a conversation around this topic, I would be thrilled.

And then post a comment here about how it all went.

I would love to hear from you.

With Warmth and Jivey Vibes,

Joanna

of

Joanna and The Agitators

sweetly agitating/persistently upending

www.joannaandtheagitators.com