Bags packed, an early Saturday Thanksgiving dinner with my folks and the boys, I headed off to the Port Angeles ferry on Thanksgiving Sunday morning to meet Emma and Candace. It's been a crazy year for all of us and when we signed up and grabbed spots in those wild 48 hours there were actually spots to grab in May we had no idea where we'd be in October. I almost pulled out so many times I lost count. But there we were. All in different spaces needing this trip for different reasons. and suddenly we were on our way.
The space of the Studio - the NIA world headquarters was our haven - our safe space to learn and grow and each find out own way together. It was almost sacred - over century old dance floors undamaged by time, big cathedral windows to let the light shine through. Warm, welcoming and full of possibilities. Rachel was a real person with a real sense of humour, kindness and warmth - all facilitated with such calm grace by her partner Sol. There was circle and sharing time in the morning, yoga, check ins, crazy warm ups that made us laugh as the music got faster and faster, drills that challenged the way our bodies moved and the way we thought about dance. Rachel shared things with us I never could have imagined. and so did the 35 women in the circle from all over the United States, Mexico, Norway and Canada. Many, like Candace, are amazing performers and teachers in their own right while many like Emma and I were drawn to the dance, not necessarily to perform but because it draws us like the warmth of a fire.
The week had a profound impact on me and I'm sure I'll write about it in more depth in the months and years to come as I further try to consolidate and settle from the experience. By Wednesday everyone was starting to feel tired. Rachel had put us through a brutal improvisation exercise with no direction on purpose to then guide us through ways to improvise in a more comfortable way. For people like myself who are not comfortable with the practice of improvisation - the cracks started to widen. We talked about the experience, and it was apparent a lot of people were feeling raw. Rachel led us through a simple meditative chant to help try to settle us. There are no words to describe the feeling of the chant, the silence and words. Mine were not the only eyes overflowing when the chant finished. It was a call for students and teacher to learn together - to be safe together and protective of ourselves and each other - it was, for me - profound. The challenges continued through that day and the next. I was not feeling like I was keeping up, didn't know why I was there anymore, lost focus and was ready to leave, quit dancing for the week, forever. I wasn't going to dance at the Friday night hafla. I was done. All I knew and clung to was the sacred feeling of the space and how Rachel continued to gently push and teach and guide with compassion and humour and humility. I could stay out the week, was learning so much, meeting such interesting women, but I was done. One exercise I didn't have a ready partner and needed a break - I sat out. After a bit I went into the change room where another woman was and we shared - so much we shared. We hugged and cried and promised to partner up and protect each other. And we did. Jacky was and is amazing. We went back into the studio and pick up the exercise - started to develop our half of the basic montage of what would become the dance we were to create and share with another duo (Candace and Lacy) for Friday night.
Friday morning came and with it the extra hour of yoga and drilling we'd arranged for those who wished it before the 12 o'clock proper time came. I was so tired, emotionally, mentally, spiritually. I needed to be there but still, I was not going to dance for Rachel that night. How could I? People were getting themselves settled around me in the space but I just sat quietly on my mat. Waiting. Somehow Rachel and I made eye contact. Something passed between us and she came over holding a book open at a passage. she handed it to me with a gentle smile and invited me to read it to myself. Cautiously I looked at her and asked, "Is this going to make me cry?" "It made me cry" was the honest reply. I took the book [There is Nothing Wrong with you] and read.
"Spiritual Practice Doesn't Begin Until the Beatings Stop."
I'm suggesting that you stop beating yourself. Many spiritual teachers suggest that hatred is not the answer. They say things about love, forgiveness, generosity and gratitude. They hardly talk about beating people and hating people and this sort of thing. They say, "Now, folks, this is the direction. This is the way to go. If you really want to wake up and end your suffering and find joy and peace and bliss, this is the way to do it." And the response is, "Nah, I don't think so. I'm not going to do that."
So, here's the deal. If you were to, say for instance, find the willingness to stop beating yourself for just one day, and if you turned into a more hideous person than you are now, the next day you could beat yourself twice as hard and catch up. I'm just suggesting that you might consider taking the risk.
I cried. Tears flowed silently and unbidden. I smiled at Rachel and she nodded in understanding. Later she shared more from the book with the class but I don't remember what. I only remembered this passage. And it changed everything. The years of thinking I was never good enough, that I was the reason for my ended marriage and all the failed relationships beforehand. Everything changed. The beating stick disappeared for the day. And that night - I couldn't wait to dance. Because it wasn't for Rachel anymore. I was dancing for me. And I was happy. Truly truly happy.
