Talking to the Body

Hello, Loves.

Today I want to tell you about a friend who recently received a terminal diagnosis. She’s in hospice care. She’s in excruciating pain. Recently, when she awoke after a particularly rough night, she spent over 30 minutes coaching her bones—as a way of processing the pain. She began by softly & sweetly telling them, “Things are a little unusual now, but you’re doing fine.” My friend explained what she was doing thusly, “You have to talk to your bones and your muscles. If you experience pain, you have to talk to them because they’re like little children and they’ll think they’re doing something wrong if you don’t talk to them gently and with kindness.” She theorized that our bones and muscles need to be soothed. “All they need is a little encouragement and some loving kindness, a bit tenderness.”

I’ve often heard it said that the body hears what the mind is thinking, meaning the body takes in the thoughts of the mind. I’ve never witnessed quite such a thorough and thoughtful conversation with one’s body. It was beautiful and touching to behold. What would you say to your body? What kind of loving support would you offer to your own bones and muscles? What message would you softly whisper to your muscles and bones, tendons, ligaments, organs, nerves--- to the whole of your being? How would you express gratitude? Would your dance be a form of gratitude to your body for all it does in service to the self?

I’m beyond thrilled to tell you that our beloved Kathy Altman will be at the helm tomorrow.

Zoom doors open at 9:45am:

https://www.openfloordance.org/community-dances

Here’s a sweet poem for your consideration:

Leaves and Blossoms Along the Way

If you're John Muir you want trees to

live among. If you're Emily, a garden

will do.

Try to find the right place for yourself.

If you can't find it, at least dream of it.

When one is alone and lonely, the body

gladly lingers in the wind or the rain,

or splashes into the cold river, or

pushes through the ice-crusted snow.

Anything that touches.

God, or the gods, are invisible, quite

understandable. But holiness is visible,

entirely.

Some words will never leave God's mouth,

no matter how hard you listen.

In all the works of Beethoven, you will

not find a single lie.

All important ideas must include the trees,

the mountains, and the rivers.

To understand many things you must reach out

of your own condition.

For how many years did I wander slowly

through the forest. What wonder and

glory I would have missed had I ever been

in a hurry!

Beauty can both shout and whisper, and still

it explains nothing.

The point is, you're you, and that's for keeps.

~ Mary Oliver ~

(Felicity)

This poem makes me think of my friend, who is so wholly herself---she teaches me that the body is a sacred thing, that we must be careful and considerate in how we speak to the beloved body.

Be gentle with yourself and with others, Sweet Dancers.

I wish you a magical dance---always.

Tender Love,

KB