On the dance floor my pain body has shown up like a cloak, or a sense that I am swimming in thick mud; it’s upset me for no good reason, had me hide and avoid contact. It separates me. It gives the illusion of hurting, but it’s not really pain, it is inertia. In emotional inertia, I’m not feeling.
I was dancing ‘in the womb’ during a Cycles workshop when I first heard someone whisper to me, You have to teach this, you have something to offer, you can’t keep this all to yourself. Disrupted, I stopped my dance and looked around. Everyone seemed to be engrossed in their own womb dances. I pushed these impossible words away; I wasn’t interested in teaching. I went on with
I will never forget the impact of my dances at the very beginning when my body parts started to talk to me: my feet stamped in deep anger about not getting heard, my hips were crying out loudly and my hands were telling me stories of delight.