JUST ANOTHER NIGHT AT THE JAM
Contact Improv Dance-- a touch-based movement, art-sport and mindfulness practice;
A new paradigm for whole-self social relating.
Experienced and written by Harmony Gates 3/14/2014
Not me, but beautiful men dancing CI
Its Thursday night and I show up at the Thursday Jam.
It's 8:30 pm. As I enter the dance space, the ballroom at the Finnish Hall, a bright, sexy young man makes direct and steady eye contact with me (he obviously knows me?) He showers me with recognition and affection. I don't recognize or remember him, but I welcome his connection and engagement. We sit and talk until he gets up to greet someone else.
I put on my kneepads and toe-less sox, my contact improv dancing 'gear'. I'm sitting on a bench that runs along an entire side of the hi ceilinged 'Finnish Hall'. There is a matching bench that runs along the other side of the room. The floor is a beautifully rich hardwood that is smooth as silk. The ceiling is high and domed, and there are modest chandeliers that hang down and light the room. On one end is a stage. M. is squatting on the ground next to the stage, peering into his laptop as he fine tunes the music that is filling the room.
As I gaze out into the room I notice about 6 or 7 humans sprawled out on the floor, each doing his or her version of grounding and coming into their body through stretching, reaching, rolling, or just lying on their back in stillness. This is 'Dropping In'. There is also a cluster of 6-7 people around R on the other side of the room. He has just concluded teaching the 'pre jam class', and these are apparently some of his students chatting with him and exchanging contact information.
My impulse is to go join Z who is a familiar partner and is lying on the floor. I don't really know if he is needing space to do his own solo warm-up, or ready for engagement, but I approach, offering myself as a playmate, ready to receive either a yes or a no. I walk directly up to him, and without making eye contact (this is an acceptable way to make an offer) I press the side of my leg into his midsection. I wait. If he rolls away, this indicates he is not interested. If he presses his body back into my leg, to meet my slight resistance, it is a good indication that he is ready to engage in dancing. But with Z, who is such a welcomer, this might just be a polite way of acknowledging my offer. He may draw me in only to let me know that he is still 'warming up'.
Z draws me down onto the floor with him, so I check just to make sure he wants to continue welcoming my body. I ask if he is ready to engage. Z welcomes me in without hesitation. Remembering a recent conversation I had with him where I mentioned the name of my FaceBook page: "Include Yourself', he says, "Be included".
One of our biggest issues as social human beings is that we are conditioned to see ourselves through the eyes of others. What holds us back from spontaneously being ourselves is 'seeing' ourselves from an outside (and often critical) observer's viewpoint.
We suppress our natural self-centered perspective: "I am here to please me", and replace it with other-centered: "I am here to please you." This switch happens early in life, when, as children, our caretakers (and society in general) convince us that it is selfish to view ourselves as the center of the universe (which we are, as is everyone else). They insist we give THAT IDEA UP, and act in ways that please and satisfy them.
We wind up seeing ourselves as we imagine or fear others might see us
We view ourselves through the eyes of others.
And this causes us to lose our Center;
To lose our KNOWING and to gradually lose our personal power, our chi, our unique aliveness.
Stepping onto the dance floor, I am drawn to join Z because, like me, he is a welcomer. He gives clear signals, and I know I can trust him to be direct with me. We move together as one, joining our centers, and following the point of contact. We spend most of our dance on the ground, squishing and being squished and pulled, generously sharing our touch, our body weight, our words, our pleasure with each other. We come to standing and move around the room with each other. This is playful, engagement, it's light hearted, spontaneous and experimental.
Z leaves our dance to get a drink of water. (This kind of movement, like any physical workout, makes one aware of one's thirst.)
I solo for a bit, right there near the center of the dance floor. My movements are slow and tai-chi-like. I'm witnessing my own body as it moves, much of my attention is internal, but my eyes are open and I allow the activity in the room to enter my awareness. I notice a beautiful young woman--a stranger to me--stretching and moving on the floor quite close to me.
I wonder, briefly, if she is available to partner play with, but I let the thought go... And no sooner than I do, I feel her arm come into contact with my foot. I can 'feel' that this is not an accidental touch, but an invitation to join her. So I do. We share a deeply satisfying, deeply intimate dance. I hold nothing back, and absolutely KNOW during our movement together, that I am giving her body and soul just what is is needing, craving and asking for, just as my body is also receiving precisely what I need, want, and find deeply satisfying. We move with the intimacy and familiarity of two lovers; sensual and confident in our mutual touching and moving. Eventually we feel such a resonance, such a trust, such a rapport, that we begin sharing sounds and playful, delightful silliness with each other. (The 'wildness factor' has arrived.)
After something like 30 minutes of this deep communion, she wants to have water and a break. She tells me her name, and offers that we might dance together again that night. I don't remember her name.
I join and leave many combinations of dance partners. Sometimes two of us duet, sometimes we join one or more others, sometimes my original partner moves off with another dancer or group of dancers and I find myself in a duet with someone new.
I'm sharing a brief trio with SS and his female partner, and we accumulate and de accumulate others in this moving matrix of bodies, scooping up one or two others here, dropping off two or more others there. At one point there are at least six of us interconnecting. Then, KB walks toward and right up to me and stands, looking down at me, expressionless. I say, "Is that a scowl on your face?" He doesn't answer, and I follow with, "Or just your face?" I feel like these words have just jumped from me, channeled, as it were. Those of us in the matrix on the floor smile and giggle. SS says, " Harmony you are on a roll." KB walks away. I guess he doesn't realize that my words are my greeting and meant as an affectionate invitation to join us.
Our loosely knit group continues to morph into different configurations both our bodies' positions, and with whom we are physically connecting. At one point I gaze beyond our grouping and notice a young man who is tall and of slight build, with curly blonde hair and a headband. First time I've ever seen him. He is in child's pose for a bit, his attention seemingly internal, then he spreads his body out like a starfish. On my next pass near him, I reach my hand out to make contact with him, to invite him into our group dance if he cares to be included.
He does! He joins with us and in one of the group's ensuing morphings he and I end up together, separated from the group. There is an immediately deep intimacy in our silly, loving, mutually embracing dance together. Instant kindred-ship. But I don't learn his name. This dance has us moving through the space, again on our feet, and we soon find we are connecting with SS and his young female partner once more. Then 2 young women in a duet become involved with us, and somehow with all of the in's and outs, my blonde male partner disappears and I find myself in a duet with a young woman with short blonde hair. We are not acquainted until this moment. But she is totally game and dives quickly into deeply intimate, playful, uncensored engagement.
This is how it is for me at CI jams; an organic unfolding of greeting, meeting, joining, reconfiguring, separating, greeting, meeting, pairing, grouping, reconfiguring. It is not planned. I both initiate and respond to others' initiations. There is a give and take, and natural flow. What is constant is that I respond in the moment with an open generous heart, a willingness to play, an honest, direct and spontaneous acceptance and welcoming of what shows up in me, and in others. By staying true to myself, connected to my center, or 'inner authority', and at choice, I am available to offer and receive interaction, connection and affection.
During one of our traveling moves across the floor, I stop just short of dancing over a young man down on the floor. I am about to pivot and move away from him, when instead, I dive into him in a controlled fall. My blonde partner loves it and comes right along with me. We are delighted in this surprising turn of events, having discovered a novel way to move into trio.
Somehow this trio dissolves and I find myself soloing again, in a kind of focused 'pausing' that creates space for change.
The man who greeted me at the door when I entered the jam, M, now simply 'shows up' next to me. I assume he is offering himself to partner with me. So I reach toward and into him. He is a gifted, grounded mover, skilled and strong. While dancing with him, I am able to show him how to lift me several different ways, mostly up and onto his shoulder. I shoulder lift him as well. He picks up the skill almost instantly, and he already knows how to be a light flyer. This allows us to play extensively together with frequent lifts. The music takes on a classical feel and our dance takes on ballet-like quality which further enhances our dancing. The rhythmic flow of the music supports our lifts as we move with it.
This CI jam, as most I've experienced, is truly a social 'mixer'. Going with what arises is a core principle of improvisation. We say, "yes, and--". We witness ourself while seeing and including others. And in Contact Improv, the connection itself guides the dance; superseding the where, the what, or the with whom. CI is a body-based art and practice of bringing one's whole self--body mind and spirit into resonance and connection with one or more others, joining together and communicating through touch and movement.
We each create and take the ride; sometimes 'steering' and sometimes being 'steered', but always the 'we', the connection itself, defining and dictating the unfolding of the dance. As long as we are committed to maintaining this 'we', we stay connected in this dance.
Next I look over and see L, moving by herself near the stage. L is someone I have some previous social contact with. I know she is fairly new to CI and eager to learn more. I initiate a dance with her and take the liberty of coaching, or guiding her, and she is receptive and appreciative. My suggestions and tips emerge through moving with her. In one moment I invite her, through touch signals, to spiral up onto my body. She tenses her whole body while efforting to do the movement. I suggest that she relax her body and then go into slow exploration to discover a pathway of moving that allows her body to accomplish this twist or spiral with the least amount of effort. "Go for 'ease'," I say. "Ahhhhh," she says. I suggest, "see how much you can leave behind". She loves the comment. She says it's her new mantra: "see how much you can leave behind."
I'm go to the bench thinking my evening of dance is complete. Then I look up from my seated position at the side of the room and see D. D is a frequent dance partner and I can't resist having at least a short dance with them.
Even though every aspect of our dance is unpredictable, my very familiarity with D as a partner sometimes seems to tempt me into thinking that he expects something particular from my dancing. This thinking is always a mental trap and a dance-kill. When I surrender with relaxed alertness to the 'now' of each moment, confidently trusting myself, I access my spontaneity and respond effortlessly to what occurs in the dancing. Anticipation, evaluation, projection, self-consciousness; all cripple my instinctive impulses and block me from spontaneous, flowing, connected partnering.
D is completely unpredictable in his movements and yet utterly tuned-in. This requires me to become exquisitely focused and ready. Ready for anything coming from him.
Ready for anything arising in myself. Directly listening, trusting and responding. No time for thinking. None. D and I play together and then they must run off and prepare themself to catch an early flight the next morning.
Back on the bench, it is now after 11 pm. I notice S. D. He's dancing with the blonde boy from my earlier dance. They are solidly connected and playing with a pushy roughness that looks like friendly wrestling. As they pause just in front of me in a sort of grappling wresting hold, my body 'feels' their energy. I blast out a growl, "Grrrrrrrrrr" sending my sound right into them, giving voice to their energy, now my energy. I watch as my sound feeds their energy. They begin to growl also, engaging even more fiercely with each other. They have become primal and tiger-like, competing for an invisible prize. It's delightful to realize how I've fed their dancing simply with my attunement. And how my vocalized resonant reflection of their dance energy has encouraged them to 'go for it'.
I'm distracted from the boys' dance by AM who engages me in conversation. He and I have a unique connection as well. He is relatively new to CI. I begin to sing the praises of CI to him, to praise CI jamming in general, and this jam in particular. We gaze out on the scene of adults moving together in so many physical and emotional energies; playful, tender, acrobatic, spontaneous, affectionately aggressive. They are in groups of 2, 3 and more. AM asks, philosophically, "What is happening in this room?" He says, '"Adults are acting like children." I say, "Adults are Being children." We nod in agreement.
On the dance floor in front of us, adults are playing with each other in completely spontaneous ways. They are connecting with each other on all levels of their being--heart, mind, body and spirit. They are congruent. Like small children, their bodies convey what they are feeling. What is conspicuously absent here is the social conditioning about self-restraint and calculated 'correctness' that we see in adults. CI dancers are not being 'correct', 'appropriate', or holding back. They are not being cool. They are being real.
These adults are having the most primal kind of fun and pleasure with each other, the kind that animals shamelessly engage in.
In silence I gaze toward the center of the room, and many people are still dancing. Feeling deeply into what this is for me. I turn to A and say, "This is where my heart lives." The words surprise me. They give A pause. We both recognize what a profound and powerful statement this is.
Even before our conversation comes to a natural close, I look up, see that SD is dancing alone and near me, and I jump into the 'ring' to dance with him. Our dance is wrestley, quick, strong, confident playful and full-on. We spar and feint, pull and release. We lift and fly, roll and tumble This is an exquisitely, thrilling, perfectly timed and executed unfolding dance, being made up on the spot.
In one moment a forceful, falling, tumbling sequence happens and we pause. We are fine. S looks up at me with awe and respect and says, "wow, Harmony, you really have quick reflexes for and old lady." There is a mischievous twinkle in his eye. I love this remark because it's true. I'm almost 60, my joints are inflamed, my skin is becoming crepey, my face shows lifelong stress and smile lines, and yet I can meet and match S-- an incredibly fit, athletic and highly skilled CI dancer in his early 40's.
He's having a blast and so am I, and I am oh so very Alive in my body, mind and spirit in this moment.
Yes. Contact Improvisation Dancing. This is where my heart lives.
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