A Special Dance

by Harmony Gates

I was lying on my back
in the center of the room.
The music was slow
the lights were low.
A ritual preparation.
Tuning in:
to the room,
to the music,
to my body.

He rolled up to me slowly…
deliberately, I thought,
and peered down at me;
head cocked to the left,
mouth slightly open, teeth slightly showing.

I'd had this happen before;
another day,
another dance.
He'd rolled up next to me,
peering in my direction.
I'd offered to connect,
and he'd rolled right on past.

But this time felt different.
He stopped.
I waited.
He looked.
I held his gaze.

My right arm was outstretched
hand open, reaching
in slow motion.
Inviting, offering,
waiting.

Wanting nothing,
allowing everything.

As if called forth--
his left arm,
pinioned to his chest
like an unfurled wing,
began to extend.

His hand, claw-like in it's spastic contraction
met mine

With incredible power and strength
he closed his fingers
around my upturned hand
and we began to dance.

Pressing back into his resistance
meeting him right there
with my full self
I said "yes" to this invitation
this challenge
this moment of connection

My world is this dance.

With curiosity and commitment
I begin to explore.
Informed by what he brings to me
I respond. I sense, I listen, I move
with him.

Lying on my back,
reaching up to meet his hands
He bends forward bringing his face and chest
toward me.

Suddenly I feel limited by this hand to hand contact.
I want to meet his body
with more of mine.

"Can you come
out of the chair?"
A whispered, "yes".
Pressing into his hands
using his resistance,
I slide around
to face him.
Pressing my feet against his chest
I wonder, "can I fly him
out of the chair?"

But he is glued to it.
I finally give up.

(Later, when from standing I finally lift him 

down to the floor,
I discover…
He's been buckled in! )

I rise to my feet
clasping his hands.
As I face him he pulls me in
our heads meet.
His head butts into mine with force
like my cat when she wants a strong rub
And I return the pressure.

As he brings his chin up
our faces press into each other, rubbing
His energy is vital, insistent, animal

I can pull away anytime
But I love feeling his desire, his wanting, his need.
I respect it. I honor it.
So I embrace it.
I want him to have what he wants.
I take him in, meet what he gives me
take pleasure in the intensity of this encounter.

He speaks.
He's asking a question.
It's hard to hear. His voice is soft. There is barely sound.
I pull my head away from his
Bring my ear close to his mouth.

It's more his energy I understand than his words.
A gentle smack from his lips.
I 'hear':
Kiss.
He wants a kiss.
"I hear,” I say.
"What. do you hear?" he asks
I kiss the air.

I'm thinking, "He should have this too."
His longing is so intense.
And why should I deny him this?
Why draw a line here?

So I let him kiss.
And I kiss back.

...

I realize that I am aware
and suddenly concerned
that our actions are visible
to a room full of other dancers.

In conflict,
I search for a boundary
and find this one:
"I don't kiss in my dances."
Which is true.
Or has been up until now.

It's as much to respect myself
as to respect the others
who come here
to this sacred space
to dance.

"I'm sorry," he says, apologizing
though he still wants it,
and continues until pull my face away.

Now we dance the 'getting out of the chair' dance.

I unbuckle him.
His arms are incredibly powerful
He grips around my neck
I scoop up his legs and back
and squat with him in my arms
gently lowering him to the floor.

Now The chair is forgotten.

Slowly, experimentally,
we begin to move together on the wood floor.
I notice we are surrounded by legs and feet
of dancers moving to the now upbeat tempo

But I am with him.

Can I ask you a question?, he says.
"Why did you dance with me?"

(I'm a contact dancer
I know how to move intelligently with other bodies
I'm a Feldenkrais Practitioner
I know how to facilitate ease of movement
I'm a relationship trauma recoveree
I know how to co-regulate others' nervous systems
to help heal attachment wounds. )

(Why do I dance with others?
I dance for healing.
The healing I receive
and the healing I offer.)

"Why did you dance with me?" he asks.
"Why not?" I answer.
"But I'm in a wheelchair,"
he says.
"So what?" I counter,

and give him my full attention,
my full concentration,
my full heart,
my full body,
my full Presence.
This is our dance.

Rolling, stretching, squeezing, pulling, sliding, lifting.

One moment:
My arm wrapped around his chest
holding him close,
my other hand comes to the top of his head.
Gently and fondly my fingers begin pulling and caressing his curly dark hair.
In response, one of his hands finds the top my head
and returns the affectionate gesture.
Only later do I take in the significance
of his palsied hands managing that.

"Can I ask you a question? he says.
Will you be my friend?"
"Of course!" I say, my heart full of tenderness and love.

And then.
I'm ready to experience
the freedom
and spaciousness
of dancing
with the rest of the room.

I let him know.
He understands.
Amazingly, I'm able
to scoop him up
off the floor
and deposit him
into his waiting chair.

A fellow dancer comes close,
ready to assist
But I find I am strong enough.

I'm wanting to dance now.
The Big Dance Jam way I dance:

Becoming the music with every muscle and movement
Expressing myself freely
while allowing others
to influence and inspire me.
Sometimes dancing with one
Sometimes dancing with several
Sometimes dancing with the whole room. 

Sometimes dancing only with me.

There is closure here first though,
before I can go.

He asks me to buckle him in.

Then reaches out contorted hands.
I give him mine.
He pulls me close
pressing us:
forehead to forehead
cheek to cheek.
He looks me in the eyes.
"I'm glad I met you." he says.
"I'm glad we met too," I say,
"I'm really glad we danced."

I draw back,
my hands still tightly gripped by his.
our eyes lock, I'm smiling.
His arms extend smoothly, gradually his grip softens
I slowly slide my hands from his,
touching only fingertips
then only air.

And I'm off to the next dance.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Harmony Gates is a life-long investigator of human connection. A dancer, movement therapist, embodied artist and relationship coach, she has pioneered her own brand of relationship work; a unique way of attuning that re-connects us to our whole, embodied, empowered selves.