Meditation in movement

Dancing is a spiritual practise for me, like yoga or meditation.

As I dance, I reconnect with Mother Earth and my inner world of feeling and intuition.

Monday 31 December 2012

Healing Dance Network

Thanks to 'libramoon' at Healing Dance Network for putting me in touch with their group (see her comment last post).

Here is a quote from one of the network postings, where they mention the "embodied mind".  Some friends at Dance Your Bones have been asking about the "disembodied rationalism" I mentioned in a previous post and I will speak more to that in tomorrow's post, but here is an interesting quote and link to research on choreography and neuroscience by UK researcher Glenna Batson.

"Particularly relevant are the ways dancers physicalize thought. Dance is a prime example that cognition is for action."

"The processes of dance making are a unique form of embodied thinking and offer a unique window into our capacity for creativity and design. Today cognitive neuroscience has chosen dance as its muse. Over the last decade a rich dialogue has developed between neuroscientists and dancers. The dialogue addresses many issues around "embodied cognitiona" TM, in a movement-based art form that impact(s) widely on intelligentsia and society at large."

http://seadnetwork.files.wordpress.com/2012/11/batson_final.pdf

Doesn't this speak to what we are expeiencing at Dance Your Bones? We may not be choreographing dance for observers, but we are spontaneously composing dances each week, and then letting them go like prayers. "Sweat your prayers". http://www.danceyourbones.com/

Interesting to note that the world is reflecting on this as well. It makes me feel more commited to pressing forward with my own "meditation in movement" exploration. I hope it compels you too.

Saturday 22 December 2012

The longest night

Solstice has passed now, the longest night of the year. I like the darkness of these long nights. A solstice ceremony at friends last night has reminded me of the needed rest that happens in the winter. Dark, cold nights draw me into my home, into myself, away from the busy world.

I wish I could go visit old Methusaleh in California. He holds the secret to long life, conserving his energy deep inside. I think I will dance a dance of stillness in his honour when the session resumes next week, and to remember the long night.


Methusaleh is said to be nearly 5,000 years old