The Humanity of Movement

The joy of moment has always been a huge part of my life. I was a hiding go seek champion at a young age, frustrating my elder siblings and cousins; I started out boxing at 11 years old. I added soccer and martial arts in middle and high school respectively, continuing to explore my love of movement. I found expression for my own darkness with combat martial arts in the ring and on the street. And somewhere during that time I fell in love with modern dance. I studied for several years at George Mason University, but in the end moved into a more predictable career path.

This recent NY Times review about Mikhail Baryshnikov’s coaching of dancers in a role of The Dreamer in “Opus 19” written for him by Jerome Robbins, had me re-thinking my own journey thru movement:

The quality Robbins was after — here and in other ballets — connects with a dancer’s way of marking movement, or executing the steps halfway so that a performance is not presentational, but human.

Watching Taylor Stanley dance, the beauty of his movement and the emotional depth of the choreography covers up an amazing athleticism. What he is able to do with his body, the control, the strength…

It had always seemed to me that play was at the heart of movement. Now I would expand that understanding to include healing.

We move thru the world carrying dark and light in varying ratios, depending on life circumstances and choices we make. Of late I’ve found ways to immerse myself in my own darkness as a creative act as opposed to an embrace of violence – dancing the blues, or surprisingly, lifting weights. The challenge of pushing beyond my preconceived limits requires some letting go, and the companionship of that darkness is welcome at the edge.

So I’ll leave you with a blues number that has been my partner in varying guises of late and hope it finds you smiling and wanting to move!