How to Be the Best Dancer You Can Be

Article Source: http://www.compassionate-medicine.com/how-to-be-the-best-dancer-you-can-be/

photo of dancer Samantha Emanuel

“Do you know why I dance the way I do?
Because I have suffered.
I have gone through divorce,
death, a lot of heartache…
That’s the art.
You can show anyone a step
But not a soul.
Never forget why you dance.
It will always
give you strength.”
…Nadia Gamal…


We are all capable of dancing. You see that truth when a baby first begins to move their body to the rhythm of their soul. Watching a baby dance always reminds me that there is a higher power.

Some of us dance as a path of devotion – the ones that consider themselves “dancers” to their core. If you are a dancer like myself, I’m sure you hope to dance till the day you die. As a holistic healer, I know that in order to live long, healthy, happy lives that include dancing, we need to treat our mind, body and spirit. All three are necessary to heal in order to be our most joyous selves.

Know Talent Is Not Born, It Is Made –

In the book ”The Little Book Of Talent” by Daniel Coyle, he talks about how talent is not innate, it is created. “If people knew how hard I had to work to gain my mastery,” Michelangelo later said, “it would not seem so wonderful at all.” Rachel Brice, who is considered one of the best Tribal Fusion belly dancers in the world,  uses this book as one of the educational tools for her 8 Elements dance program. I first read the book in her 8 Elements course Initiation that I took with her recently. I have found this book immensely useful for advancing my dance practice.

Some of the key ways that talent is created, as discussed in “The Little Book Of Talent”, are by building strong neural pathways in the brain, not from how long you practice, but by how you practice. You need deep practice, which requires hard work, mental struggle, and extreme attention to detail. Struggle is not optional, it is neurological required if you want to create strong “talent” neural pathways in the brain. You must also make mistakes in order to build talent. I know it is the tendency of myself and many others to want to ignore mistakes or avoid making them at all. But, you have an opportunity to build a strong neural pathway by making mistakes, paying attention to them, and fixing them right away.

Beware Of Reliance On Drugs To Connect With Your Dance -

The dance world is full of drug use. Many artists are drawn to having altered states.  I believe positive, life altering changes and profound healing can occur from the use of psychedelic plants and other mind altering substances, including alcohol. I have had them.  I am not anti-drugs by any means. The danger is when the relationship with a substance becomes unbalanced, and one of my specialties in my healing practice is trying to help people find balance in their mind, body and soul.

Unbalanced meaning the bad effects are outweighing the good. I believe experiences with mind altering substances are meant to be used very, very moderately. Relying on drugs to connect to our dance, whether it be to feel free, less anxious and afraid, is not sustainable. With over use of a drug, the very gift that it gave us in the beginning of using will be the very thing that we lose. For example, drugs and alcohol can definitely reduce anxiety, fear and depression. But drugs actually will destroy the very neurotransmitters in our bodies that create happy states if they are abused. If you find you are “chasing” a high that you had once, and it’s not happening any more with your use, you may have a problem with substance abuse.

Sometimes people are completely reliant, absolutely powerless over a substance. Addiction is very real, and probably has touched the lives of most people. I was in four rehabs by the age of 20 years old. I aso got a degree in chemical dependency counseling, worked in inpatient rehab as a counselor and worked for many years for an incredible local program here in Boulder, Colorado called Natural Highs created by Avani Dilger. I am very familiar with addictions! I know the power of them.Natural Highs is a class for teenagers to learn how to have altered states without mind altering substances through herbs, body work, mate tea ritual, acupuncture and intimate sharing.

It is important to be aware that most addicts or alcoholics have had trauma in their history. In order to heal the addition, trauma specific helping work is necessary. One of my specialties in my private practice is treating trauma or PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder). My favorite therapy for trauma and PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder) is Brainspotting or EMDR therapy. Make sure you find a reputable and certified therapist who uses this type of therapy tool in their practice. In my experience, it is essential that the environment and the therapist be completely safe or else the trauma will not be worked through.

The other healing tools I have seen work very well for healing trauma are ear acupuncture, ceremonial botanical body work, plant medicine, aromatherapy, flower essences and abdominal massage. I utilize all of these tools to treat myself and patients.  I have had a lot of success treating self harm addicts with these tools as well.

Other very effective tools are sweat lodges, ceremonies, rituals, cleansing, journaling, cleansing, meditation and yoga.  (*Editor's Note: "The Smudging and Blessings Book" is a beautiful resource for helping one to create sacred space for home and spiritual practice purposes.)

I think every one craves altered states, whether an addict or not. I am interested in ways to have altered states without hurting our biochemistry. There are ways to have altered states through things that actually support our minds and bodies, and do not create imbalance in the body at all. Dance is one of the ways we can get a natural high. Some other examples are meditation, sweat lodges, ceremony and cleansing. If you are creating a habit of needing a substance to dance, you could be harming your dance in the long run. Dance has saved me many times by inspiring me to stop destructive behavior because I was afraid to lose my connection to dance.

Healing Body Work Is Essential -

We must do self care to thrive as a person and to dance forever. One of the number one symptoms I treat my patients for is stress. Stress is so destructive to human beings. Healing body work, massage, chiropractic, energy work, facials, to name a few, can be life changing. I have had deeply moving, radically transforming and healing experiences receiving healing body work. This inspired me to become a healer myself. I have been apprenticing under a teacher named Naomi Boggs who has been teaching me Lomi Lomi bodywork, plant medicine, flower essences, deep abdominal massage and ceremonial botanical body work. I now do these in my private practice and I find them to be radically healing.

Now that I have taken my dance to the next level by treating it as a full time job, I find i cannot get away with not receiving regular body work. It absolutely helps me be a better dancer. Luckily, I can trade my services with other practitioners. If money is an issue, look into massage and acupuncture schools in your area. These schools usually have a clinic where students treat for a very discounted rate. Community healing clinics are becoming very popular in most cities. This is where you get treated in a group setting for a very discounted rate.

Seek Help Of Practitioners Who Are Holistic Healers, But Don’t Rule Out Western Doctors -

 I chose to become a holistic healer because treating my own mind, body and soul helped save my life from suicidal depression. I believe treating the mind, body and spirit is going to evolve medicine. I believe in both Eastern AND Western medicine – a marriage of the two. There are some amazing things that western medicine can do – hello, surgery and pain killers! Let us honor Western medicine. I love how Eastern medicine does not separate the mind, body and soul when diagnosing and treating a patient. The body holds stories that need to be expressed and words won’t get the job done.

Don’t Worry About How Old You Are –

I was 38 when I discovered tribal fusion belly dance and fell deeply in love with it. This was shortly after I birthed my second child. I knew that after searching for years for a path of devotion, after living in an ashram, after taking yoga classes for years, after struggling with meditation, I found what I was looking for in belly dance. When I am in a negative mind set, the voices in my head will say, “You are ridiculous! Trying to be a serious dancer at the age of 40! Who do you think you are? You look like a fool! It isn’t even possible! Why didn’t I find it sooner? You can’t be an old, beautiful dancer!” In a positive mindset, I declare, “I am so grateful that I found belly dance this YOUNG!

I am so grateful I found it at all!” Beauty is in the movement, in the soul that shines through the body during the dance. I try to remember and embody this, but it can be a challenge sometimes. I think we are culturally programmed to think that there is an expiration date on us when it comes to being a dancer.  In my own personal journey, I realized that the enemy is not our culture as much as my own fearful ideas about aging and beauty. I am responsible to heal and change those old ideas that no longer serve me. I so appreciate the belly dance community because of the huge age range of women doing it. I will continue to look to the examples of women dancing till the day they die!

Start Your Dance With Reverence Or A Prayer –

Those of us that have access to dance classes and community around dance are very lucky. Be grateful for that! I have met many women who told me when they were a kid, their family could not afford classes. Dance classes were not readily available on the internet, because there was no internet. Which brings me to another thing we should be grateful for – the internet. Now, with the technology of the internet, we can take classes from the touch of a button, from all the best teachers in and around the world.

I love and honor Carolena Nerrico, the mother and creator of American Tribal Style dance (ATS), for always opening her ATS dances with a movement prayer acknowledging the space that we dance in, the dance teachers, the music we hear and our fellow dancers. It’s beautiful to watch. She teachers her students who are teachers to teach the same.

Create An Altar – 

In the book, “The Little Book Of Talent”,  it talks about the importance of “staring” at what you want to become. Not just thoughtless staring, but conscious and deliberate observing. Truly seeing what it is that inspires you and what it is you hope to become. Create a sacred space for yourself with things that inspire you. Hang pictures of dancers that make your heart soar and your light your soul on fire. Surround yourself with beauty. This helps dreams takes flight.

Practice Yoga –

Rachel Brice says, “Yoga is as important to my dancing as drills or any form of practice. Without flexibility in the spine, upper back and side ribs, hips, etc., the movement would not be as “snake-y”. I’m constantly encouraging students to take more yoga classes.” Not only has yoga helped my dance, it helps me calm my mind and find peace in my soul. It helps me get in touch with my body, to know when I need rest, how far to push myself and when to slow down. When I first started taking yoga as a young teen at Kripalu, then a ashram with Amrit Desai as the guru, I was frustrated with how painful it felt.

I would get cramps in my body and limbs were constantly falling asleep. I was not aware at first that my competitive nature, my looking at everyone else and comparing myself to them, was the biggest culprit of my physical discomfort. I had a surrender one day when I decided to practice with my eyes close for all classes. What happened was incredible. I suddenly was able to tune in to what my body’s needs were. I did not push myself. I listened and I grew because of it. I crossed over into a place of physical and spiritual peace. My body stopped hurting and yoga was no longer so frustrating. I have been hooked on yoga ever since.

Warm Up And Cool Down –

Always. Period. It prevents injury and injuries can take a long time to heal and often prevent us from dancing.

Develop Your Taste In Music And Build A BITCHIN’ Music Collection -

Music is a HUGE part of a dancer’s world. It is the soul of dance. The two go hand in hand. My musicality has grown as I have grown as a dancer. As my musicality grows, so does my dance. They are mutually engendering. What’s most important is that YOU dance to music that moves your soul. I met a lovely teacher who said, “If I listen to the song 3 times in a row, that’s a song for me to pay attention to. It is probably the song to perform to. ” – I build my collection by perusing the free online music site, Soundcloud. On Soundcloud, you can create and store music playlists of the music you find on it. I also find musicians on Instagram by searching hash tags of the type of music I like, ex: #hiphop #techhouse.

Be Humble –

Even if you are the most sought after teacher in the world, be humble. We are grateful we get to dance every time we do. Do not take that for granted. I learned from the lovely and amazing teachers Collena Shakti  and Joanna Ashleigh that emoting gratitude in your dance is a powerful way to move yourself and your audience. I also have had the privilege to study with two amazing dancers and teachers, Zoe Jakes and Rachel Brice. I was so moved by both of them – not just by their amazing teaching skills, but by what humble, kind, down to earth and gracious people they both were, despite having become very famous. My experience is that gurus do not exist and that we are all equally human. All teachers and dancers that I respect, have these qualities.

If You Get Injured, Be Patient With Recovery – 
The number one reason I see my patients get re-injured is because they rushed back into an activity before they were fully healed. I get it- being injured can be challenging. You are unable to do the thing you love the most – dance. Fear, anxiety and stress can rush you back into the activity. See injuries or illness as an opportunity to go deeper inside yourself, listen to what your body is trying to tell you, learn the lesson in the healing process. Maybe you need to slow down, take more time for self care, re- evaluate your path. It is a rich opportunity for growth if you have the right attitude.

Support And Be Kind To Your Fellow Dancers –

I have been so impressed with the belly dance community that I am a part of. We are kindreds, and I am grateful to have found a supportive tribe of like minded people pursuing their love of dance. That doesn’t mean I haven’t encountered jealously, competitiveness, and unkindness. I know that I have felt my own jealousy, insecurity and competitiveness. I am human. But I really do not indulge these feelings. I make a conscious effort to spread love, support and kindness. I go out of my way to thank dancers that have inspired me, support dancers that need it, and be humble. I also make a conscious effort to spread love and kindness on the internet by telling someone when I admire their work. I am always trying to reach out a virtual hand to support and be kind. The internet is another world that most of us in this day and age inhabit. I have been horrified by the hatred I see on the internet in comments. Let’s try to spread love.

I love this quote by Gilda Gray, which Rachel Brice has taped in her journal: “I know part of me is competitive, but I will focus my energy and attention on the part of me that wants us all to celebrate our differences and similarities in a big network of friends that push themselves and inspire each other to do the best work possible, while crediting each other and our influences.”

Ecstatic Dance: To Fly, To Heal, To Love

Article Source: http://the-toast.net/2015/04/07/ecstatic-dance/2/

I wanted to move, but my body would not cooperate. It was a feeling not dissimilar to the paralysis I’ve experienced when wanting to kiss someone for the first time. Mentally, I was able to project myself vividly into the space. In my head, it looked good. On the ground, though, nothing changed. Frustrated by this self-imposed inertia, I closed my eyes and tried to conjure the living-room parties of college: the empty PBR cans, drunk boys jumping on musty couches to New Order and Bruce Springsteen, the blessed darkness. I opened my eyes: Jenny was being solicited for contact improv.

In ecstatic dance, contact improv is initiated by deep eye contact, and often seems to culminate in an entangled limb-nest on the floor. (A woman who had been the subject of numerous unwanted contact-improv solicitations would later offer us a practical solution: dance with your eyes closed.) Feeling overprotective of Jenny, I wiggled my way over, forcing myself into the groove. The piano music phased into beatless chanting, slow jams, reggae, and eventually the sort of electronic dance music that often incorporates saxophone riffs and sounds best in a loud, cavernous space. We stomped and waved and hopped across the floor.

I performed a rapid, mechanical-looking dance-march that I once saw in a nightclub in Berlin, and felt like a videogame character hitting an invisible wall. I had a short flashback to the step aerobics class I took in high school, and wondered whether this might ever become a suitable form of exercise. “Like curriculum-free Zumba,” the ad copy would read, “but barefoot, in harem pants!”

Around the two-hour mark, I went hunting for a water fountain, and fell into conversation with a gentleman named Happy. Happy was sitting on the outskirts of the party, looking content, and he welcomed me in generously by asking whether I wanted his full attention and eye contact – yes, please. Later in our conversation, I learned that he teaches a healing method called Eye Gazing. Happy was exquisitely kind, and told me he’d been part of the Oakland Ecstatic Dance community for several years. A woman ran over and wrapped her arms around Happy’s neck. “Church should be a party!” she said, then scampered off.

“Church is a vessel for spirituality,” Happy clarified, as I fleetingly wondered whether I had inadvertently joined a cult. “People get their freedom in dance, in wordlessness. They get a lot out of their own freedom, and out of other people’s freedom, and –” this is where he lost me “– it leads to deeper and deeper levels of ecstatic freedom, where we find our true nature. There’s a chemistry to ecstasy.” 

Chemistry, ecstasy: sounds good to me! I thought. I was back on board.

As I made my way back to the dance floor, I bumped into the least probable co-worker, Louis, who was taking a much-needed water break. He was wearing a terry-cloth headband, and we greeted one another exuberantly and with mild suspicion. Louis has an advanced degree in computational biology, which is both practical and sane; at the office, I have a well-groomed reputation as a bookworm and a skeptic. Neither one of us seemed a natural participant in ecstatic dance.

Yet there we were, wearing tank tops and blinking at each other through sweat-bunched bangs. As we whispered by the yoga mats, I tried to imagine any other situation in which he, Happy, and I would all be at the same party. I was hard-pressed to come up with a feasible scenario that didn’t involve a mutual bloodline.

By this point, we had reached Peak Ecstatic Dance. People were bouncing and smiling and sweating; a guy who looked about my age removed the bulk of his clothing and did a prolonged handstand.

A woman held two small children and spun them in a circle. An older man in flowing linen pants, a knee brace, and purple socks rubbed shoulders elegantly with a lithe 20-something woman rocking a bleached pixie cut. One man slithered over to another and they writhed around on the floor, eventually emerging with one airborne on the other’s feet. It was clear who the regulars in the crowd were, but for the most part, I’d seen (and done) this sort of dancing before – if you ever attended a Dispatch concert in the early 2000s, you have, too.

Ecstatic Dance is an often wordless practice – people had their mouths closed, opening only to release an excited yowl or heavy breath. It’s also intended to be a nonsexual space, but there were a few people who seemed to violate this principle. A man in tight cotton shorts pogoed vigorously between women, trailing his fingertips down their sides. Men are perfect at ruining things, I thought, as he barreled toward us.

***

It’s hard to explain, but I now feel oddly protective of the Ecstatic Dance community. It’s not my community and likely never will be, but I have to commend the people who belong, who build and grow it. They’ve identified a need and addressed it. They’ve proactively made something beautiful for themselves. No matter what it looks like from the outside, it works: people there glowed with self-comfort. I wished I could get there, and one day I might. Dance, however, probably isn’t my path.

As I watched an older couple hold each other to a reggae remix – she with swollen ankles, he with slight shoulders and white hair – I was moved. Later, sweaty and beat, Jenny and I emerged onto Oakland’s Broadway. Cars sped past; two men walked by, shouting at each other. I felt a little deflated, and also extremely relieved. Maybe I’d lost my edge. Maybe I’d never really had it.
“I’ll think about that older couple for a while,” I said.

Jenny agreed.

“I never want to do that again,” I said.

“Mmm,” Jenny said. We continued to walk. “It’s so peaceful out here,” she said after a while.

“Yes,” I said. And it was.

Why We Dance: A Philosophy of Bodily Becoming (An Interview)

The following is an interview with Kimerer LaMothe, author of Why We Dance: A Philosophy of Bodily Becoming:

Why did you write this book?

Kimerer LaMothe: I love to dance, every day. It is vital for my well being. And when I scan the landscape of human life, I see dance everywhere—in the earliest human art, the oldest forms of culture, and in every culture around the world into the present. Yet in the maps of and for human life that comprise the philosophy, theology, and religious studies of the modern west, dance occupies a surprisingly small space. Rarely do authors consider dancing as vital to human life, especially to a human’s religious life. I wanted to change that.

How did you decide to approach this problem?

KLL: Before beginning this book, I spent years delving into written works of the western canon, trying to identify the intellectual moves that make it nearly impossible for a given philosopher or theologian to affirm dance as a medium of religious experience and expression. I looked for exceptions. I looked for thinkers who were willing to consider dance as more than just a metaphor, or more than just a crude alternative to the “finer” arts or “higher,” more cerebral forms of religion.

The problem went deeper than I thought. The bias against dance in the western tradition is not simply evidence of a mind/body problem, a fear of sexuality, or a patriarchal devaluing of the feminine per se. Rather, the challenge for dance is rooted in the fact that that the tradition’s dominant structures and patterns of thinking express and reinforce the lived experience of people who have spent years training themselves to read and write. Much of western thought is an apology for the life of a book-bound mind.

While this trajectory of cultural development has enabled tremendous advances in numerous realms, it is less helpful when it comes to making sense of why humans always have and continue to dance.

In order to show how dance is vital to our humanity, I realized that I would have to retell the story of what it means to be a human being from the lived experience of dancing. I would have to tell a story in which bodily movement appears as the source and telos of human life.

Fortunately, across disciplines, researchers and scientists are discovering what many dancers have known and practiced for years: that bodily movement is essential to the biological, emotional, spiritual, and ecological development of human persons. Thus, when I set out to write this book, I had a lot of material on which to draw in making my case.

So why do we dance?

KLL: The reasons are many, and each chapter of Why We Danceexplores one. We dance to matter, to evolve, to know, to be born, to connect, to heal, and to love. Yet as the text spirals through these different chapters, a common argument builds as the substratum of them all: namely, that humans evolved as creatures with a unique ability to notice, recreate, and become relational patterns of movement. Humans evolved to dance as an enabling condition of their best bodily becoming.

Key to this argument is this notion I develop of “bodily becoming.” It takes three moves to shift to this perspective. First, humans do not have bodies, they are bodies. Second, the bodies that humans are, are not objects, they are movement. Third, the movement that human bodily selves are is the movement of their own becoming. In a nutshell: I am the movement that is making me. Humans are nothing more or less that rhythms of bodily becoming, constantly moving themselves as well as being moved by forces larger and smaller than they can perceive.

In each chapter, I explore the implications of this way of thinking about our bodily selves for philosophical questions concerning the nature, evolution, development, and culture expression of human persons. I build the case that the ongoing practice of dancing is the primary action in which humans learn to participate–consciously or not—in the rhythms of bodily becoming.

You note in the opening to Why We Dance that you live on a farm, and that you could not have written this book anywhere else. Why is that?

KLL: If I was to write a book that expressed the lived experience of dancing, I knew that I needed to live in a place where my own impulse to dance was constantly quickened and brought to life in me—a place where I was moved to move by the movements of the natural world.

When the opportunity came for our family to move to the country, I jumped. Little did I know, that once my partner and I moved to this retired dairy farm, our children would decide that they wanted to be farmers. Supporting our children in fulfilling their dreams of raising horses, cows, cats, and chickens has opened my senses up in new ways to how the movements that we make in every moment of our lives make us who we are in relationship to the natural world.

Each chapter of Why We Dance sports an experiential frame drawn from life I live here on the farm. Each frame enacts ideas I develop within the chapter itself. These experiences are not “cases” that provide evidence of “theories.” Rather, they each describe the experiences that have enabled the ideas of the chapter to emerge in me at all. In this way, each chapter represents a coming-into-being of the ideas about dance that it also contains. Each chapter calls attention not only to the “embodiment” of ideas (as if ideas lived in bodies), but to the ways in which ideas express, engender and are themselves bodily movements.

I am not a dancer. I don’t dance. Why should I read this book?

KLL: Part of what I do in this book is to redefine “dance.” I offer a visionary definition of what dance can be based both on what dancing has been across a range of contexts, as well as on what we now know about the importance of bodily movement to our humanity. Dance, I offer, is something that every human can and must do to some extent in order to survive their births as hopelessly dependent infants. Dance, in this sense, refers to a process of participating as consciously as we are able in the rhythm of creating and becoming relational patterns of sensation and response.

While elastic, this definition offers rich conceptual resources for identifying and acknowledging the wide range of meanings, experiences, beliefs, and knowledge that the practice of certain dance styles and techniques makes possible, especially when occurring in religious contexts. This visionary definition also offers resources for understanding how and why the practice of dancing remains a potent guide for people today in the work of nurturing mutually life-enabling relationships with the natural world.

This book is as much an adventure as an argument. It is a call to think and a call to act. It is written for people who can dance or want to dance as well as for those who are sure they can’t and don’t. It is written for people who love to move and want to know why. It is written for people who don’t want to move and want to know why. It is written for people who yearn for a better understanding of how the movements they make are, in every moment, making them. People who want to know: what am I creating?