Embodied Movement

Dancing on the Beach

Embodied Movement…   In the light of love – we move.

How could I best describe embodied, conscious movement? And why has it become an indispensable part of my life style?

Have you ever noticed how children move, hop and dance around? Ever so effortlessly, it looks so natural. They seem to be having so much fun. That’s exactly why I love embodied conscious movement – it’s utterly liberating and helps me unwind from all the dealings that are part & parcel of the grown-up world.

It’s a medicine to my soul I have access to – at all times. Through moving my body together with all other moving bodies in a safe container facilitated by a skillful and present guide by our side.  I become more aware of what transpires as I move together and on my own.  Pivoting from exploring, tasting your dance to coming back home to my own dance – enriched by the experience of a new flavour I can now add to my own.

I am wondering – is there such a thing as “my dance”? For, I am a composition – a formation of all the people and experiences I have ever been touched by in my life. However I may have perceived it – pleasantly, in fear, with aversion, with an open or a closed heart and mind.

I cultivate a deeper sense of awareness, anchoring my faculty of presence as I begin to move. In a most playful possible way.

I share my experiences with my fellow movers; feeling comfortable to be myself – my authentic me. I am not expected to please or have a need to dance to impress upon anyone. And when I do, that’s fine to – as long as I am aware of my beings and doings. I dance to express all different parts of my self – sometimes fast or slow, vigorously or through a set of micro-movements, with music or in silence, in communion with people, the ocean, trees, the sun, the birds, all that is around or simply on my own.

I am allowing myself to be, through movement – there is no agenda. Only pure movement – I have no need for any substances that would alter my state of being.  When I move I can’t get stuck. I don’t wait for the emotions or my moods to change before I decide to make a move – I instigate the move and let the emotions follow the suite. I nudge myself to move despite the flavour of my current state of being.   As I begin to move, I create the flow with it’s ripple effects and let it take me where I need to go and do my thing. When I move I don’t get stuck. My movement can be tinny – invisible to the observing eye – yet, inside me, I move. My gaze softens, and I allow my body tissues and my nerves to relax. I realize there is no need for competition, exaggerated ambition, or intensity when not called for.

Our bodies hold the innate intelligence that informs us of our deeply rooted patterns that keep us out of balance and no longer serve us. When I pause and tune in, I am able to learn how to move, to move through such patterns that cause me unease.

I learn to cultivate moments composed of many pauses – moments where I simply freeze. Being a witness to myself, to others and being witnessed by others – not trying to change anything, to interfere, or interject. Being present for my fellow movers while allowing whatever is wanting to occur – to happen.

Tears, joy, fear, trepidation, doubt, memories, pain, desires, pleasure, love, hate, connection, disconnect, projections, anger, shame, blame, judgements, wanting to hide and run away, feeling helpless, not knowing. All parts of ourselves are welcome on the sacred dance floor; nothing is taken personally, yet all is personal.  

Nothing is taken personally, yet everything is very personal.  

And so I take all this learning and embodied wisdom as I transition from one container to another. From my scrumptiously delicious dancing pod in sunny California to my beloved home in the cold, green north. To my workplace of play, inspiration, and creation.

There’s no separation when embodied, conscious movement leads the way. Sometimes I choose to move slow or fast, gently or vigorously, in a big audacious or tinny, small way. Always trying to be aware of my semipermeable moving vehicle with the capacity to embody it all. To choose and say yes or no. To participate or take a break. To set healthy boundaries. To watch life unfold – for me, for us all.
With gratitude that I am alive – that I have the required means, time, support, courage, and will to experience the gift of a year-long with Zuza and you all.  

I show up. Trusting that I can. I come to this world to play and be the being of love, which I am. When I mess up, that’s ok. I pause, reset and start again. I know that I can. Because I am. A being of light & love. Showing you the way, just like you show me your way to live my life more fully, as an expression of my most beautiful, generous, loving, joyful, authentic self.  Oh, I do love that thought.

So, it is true.
“From caring comes courage”,
the courage to listen and respond
to the calling of the Heart.
(The Girl With a Rose)

I thank you for enriching my life with your preciousness, with your divine presence. 

I dance… I am danced…I become my dance. The dance becomes me.  

And now, I wonder… How do you move through your life? What is the one thing I have shared that could enrich your dance of life, making it more pleasant, fulfilling, meaningful, revealing? Five percent more or five percent less can can make a big difference.

Is it possible for you to receive this flow of thoughts with an open heart and place it at the back of your mind as you go about your day – and see what transpires when you least expect it?

Yeah, I am a curious mover, that’s for sure.  

Zuza, thank you for delicious 5% 😊💕. In the light of love, we move… “

Over the Horizon

Girls sitting under a tree by a lake, watching the sunrise

Far away yet so close is the horizon…

Freedom is a state of mind—
feeling free, a state of being.

There is a place
under the sky,
beneath the stars,
underneath the shining sun,
where you will find me lying on the sand
beside the flowing water—
the place where I come to be,
to feel more free.

In wonder, I watch the flock take flight,
a dance of feathers against the light.
The murmuration, a spell that enchants my sight.

Far away yet so close is the horizon.

I often run away
to a place where I can melt with the horizon.
There, I can feel the gentle breeze,
and hear the water flowing with such ease.
The grasses sing with fragrance so sweet,
a place where my spirit feels complete.

My heart begins to bloom and grow—
beat by beat, like a river’s flow,
expanding like a full moon’s glow.

I smile – your loving eyes, so kind,
shine brighter than the stars aligned.
No other gaze beneath the sky,
could bring such joy or make me high.

Far away, yet so close is the horizon.

We live,
we love,
we learn,
and life goes on,
until it’s time to cross the horizon.

I do not want to go back home—
not quite yet.
Sometimes, running is the way to be,
the way I learned to spread my wings,
to fly, to be more free.

“You silly girl!
How long can you dwell beside the shore
watching the horizon
before the body starts complaining,
shivering from cold,
ushering you to a shelter you call home?”

As long as I can,
I whisper to myself.
As long as I possibly can.