Artifacts as motivation

Though I’ve been really low on motivation the last two weeks due to a stupid slip back into eating gluten (and I’m starting to emerge from it but oy…), I’ve been thinking about sharing this particular idea for some time.

A lot of people write about the idea of legacy. What is the legacy you wish to leave behind you in the world? For some of our brains, that’s a pretty abstract concept that doesn’t lead to much past understanding. Meaning, for me, it doesn’t lead to action. Not so much.

But then I ran into the idea of artifacts as it relates to us personally and I can’t remember where but it stuck.

This isn’t about all the stuff in your house. I mean, I really wish more people would take Swedish Death Cleaning more seriously, because yeah, we don’t want your tchotchke and you’re basically asking others to clean up after you. (This doesn’t mean you should live with nothing but maybe, just maybe, if your house and garage and shed are packed to the gills, you could get rid of half of it. I know from experience that it won’t only NOT kill you to have an empty closet or even just some empty shelves, but it will make space in your life to breathe more deeply. For reals.)

Anyway…

What are these artifacts?

You know how on social media there are people who only ever share other people’s stuff (including fucking AI generated crap but that’s another post)? They never share any of their own thoughts, their own photos, their own art, nothing generated from their own minds and hearts.

It reminds me of a lot of those homes I just wrote about above. They are leaving behind bought stuff… nothing from their own hands or minds.

And that’s the artifacts we’re talking about: bits of you. Evidence of you having lived your life.

Not everyone is going to leave behind beautiful paintings like my husband or piles of published books like some of my friends.

But we can still leave behind bits of us… that journal you kept of the seasons? Priceless. Those pieces of art that you labored over out of pure joy? Priceless.

These are the things that matter. Not your freaking figurines.

How this can be motivating

For me, when I think about leaving behind artifacts of my life, it motivates me to make those videos (and build my YouTube so it’s full of my somatic dance principles). It motivates me to actually get writing, whether here or on socials or on the book files I have started. It motivates me to work on my teacher training manual.

It motivates me to plan the next choreography challenge. To build deeper community. To get out in the world and show my damn self.

So… thinking of the artifacts you’d like to leave behind, how could this motivate you?

The measure by which you know your true work

When I say the word work, I don’t necessarily mean your job. The two can be the same but are not always. I happen to have work that is also my job, and though some people idealize that, there are positives and negatives to both ways of being in the world.

And no matter how much you love your work, there are always parts that just suck. There are days that are exhausting. There are times when you think about quitting. That’s all normal.

With that out of the way…

What’s not normal is feeling that way all of the time. Walking around feeling nothing but drained and maybe even angry is a big red flag.

Here’s the thing: the work you’re meant to do in this world (whether your job or not) is something that feeds the world but also feeds you back. That’s the key right there.

There are days when I think about quitting this work/job I’ve been doing for 16 years, but I know I’m where I’m supposed to be because it brings something important to my communities just as it also brings so much to me. It’s as much my own happiness and sanity as it is any student’s.

So every time I’m feeling overwhelmed or disappointed or just grouchy, I go back to that and remember myself.

I also go back to this little story I read somewhere and I cannot remember where but I think the monk in it is David Steindl-Rast.

A man was feeling really exhausted and overwhelmed by his work/job (some sort of non profit) and he was complaining to his monk friend about this.

The monk friend said something along these lines: It’s not the work that is exhausting you but the fact that you are not giving yourself wholeheartedly to it. ((whoa))

This lack of wholeheartedness can show up for me in a bunch of ways: I focus on wrong things; I don’t take care of my own practices; I try to do too much: I succumb to comparison.

Wholehearted is the opposite of hustle, right?

It’s working from your open heart. And that work always includes self care, a human pace, and a constant return to the fundamentals of your what and why.

Call for ideas

I’m going to start using my YouTube channel to create weekly movement challenges, and each month will have a different main theme. For example, September will be all about balance. And of course, I’ll be bringing my unique blend of science and woo and dance to each topic.

What would you love to see in this series? What things are creating challenges for you lately?

If you have never responded to one of these blogs, maybe now is the time. ((smile)) Let me know what you need and want.

Practice as safe space

I used to tell people (when I was first embarking on this somatic dance journey and felt like I had just conquered two Mount Everests in a row by dancing my way to the least amount of depression in my life that I had ever known)… I used to tell people that their own bodies in the now were their safe space. Because right this minute, nothing is happening.

I still believe we can get to that point and that it also fluctuates depending on psychological triggers, freaking life life-ing, and things like overall health and the weather and so many other variables.

But… and this is a big but… your body as safe space just doesn’t work for a lot of people and it never will.

What do I mean by safe space?

Safe spaces are places and people in which and with whom we can be totally ourselves and be held with care. This can mean that we are tolerated through annoying times ((ha)), witnessed during big changes, and encouraged in growth. It can also mean we are called out on our own bullshit but we know that calling out is coming at us with love and compassion.

Safe spaces and people are not all sunshine and rainbows. Spaces that are too sweet are actually not safe, because the number one component of safe space (and people) is honesty.

If our bodies cannot be these safe spaces, where does that leave us?

What are the other options?

Movement As safe space

This is another tricksy one.

As I have said for a very long time: as long as there is breath, there is dance.

And I believe that. To my core. I have watched people with very little mobility left find so much beautiful dance.

But to say that movement itself is a safe space is unrealistic in light of what many will encounter via disease and aging.

Movement as safe space can feel like an insult in those contexts.

Of course, we too narrowly define movement and that is a large part of the issue, but that narrow definition is how most people understand it. To lose our favorite way of moving can be devastating and transitioning to a new way of understanding movement can take many years if it happens at all.

So no, movement itself is not the safe space we’re looking for.

Community as safe space

Ugh. Sadly this one can be too… fragile, too changeable, too… unrealiable.

Communities are made of humans and humans are unpredictable and we need something somewhat predictable when it comes to creating safe space.

That’s not to say that some communities are not our safe spaces. I myself have a few communities that I would put in this category, but even then, I have experienced moments when it didn’t feel that way. (Luckily they were safe enough to even contain those moments and move beyond them.)

And the grief that comes with dissolution of or betrayal within community is intense. Not safe (or at least not always).

Practice as safe space

After all of these years of observing all of these phenomenon, I have finally come to practice as safe space.

Practice as safe space contains all the other possibilities — bodies, movement, communities, other individuals.

Practice is malleable over our lifetimes but it also (when approached in the way I mean) is a constant companion, even as it and we change.

Practice is devotion to your own awareness and a commitment to living a life of noticing and learning and growing.

Your practices may change but you doing them does not. You coming to them in times of joy and grief does not. And though it may be profoundly challenging to maintain, your practices truly are your safe space — where you can fully meet yourself, challenge yourself, and learn an ever deepening love of yourself and therefore of others.

We are safe in our practices so that we can go out and meet a world that is often unsafe. We then go back to our practices for repair and rejuvenation to be effective in our lives. And that cycle goes on and on…

A formula for your experiment of one

A little preface to my main point

It seems right to share a photo from the time I wrote the words below

Since 2016 (and we all know what I’m referring to) it has felt like time makes no sense, the world gets darker and darker, and overall, our mental health has just been on a trajectory that, well, we’d prefer were different. Maybe I’m not speaking for you, but most people in my circles feel like they are somehow less than a version of themselves that existed pre-2016.

I am less in my fit dancer body, that’s for sure. I’m less joyful and less giggley. And my god, I really do believe this timeline has aged us faster than we would have otherwise.

And on top of all of that, I actually feel less smart. Maybe it’s all the stupidity and ignorance and cruelty that has permeated our culture and it’s bound to somehow affect each and every one of us whether we are those things or not.

But when I look back at my pre-2016 memories, I sure do seem smarter. I seem more joyful even when I was going through something difficult… I could see that there was some sort of meaning to be extracted, some sort of growth I could get from it.

So when I share this, it might even make part of you mad, but I would suggest that’s the part of you (and me) that has been so deeply traumatized over the last … oh my god ALMOST DECADE living with these monsters among us.

I wrote this formula from so many years of my own experimentation, and the beauty of it is that it’s a framework but you fill in the deets.

A formula for your experiment of one

There is no one path to health after chronic developmental trauma, from which so many unconsciously suffer. But there ARE some very basic building blocks that we KNOW help and that constitute a pretty damn good formula as far as formulas go.

First, movement. Period. You have to move every day. This is essential for basic human vitality but for someone attempting to recover their brain it becomes fundamental. We have excellent science behind what movement does for the brain, and there is, literally, nothing like it. It's imperative that you find movement that you ENJOY. Anything less will not last and will not have the results. And? Healthy movement leads to HEALTHY rest, which most people do not get. They get too much rest and it's of the not-restful variety so then they think they need more. Nope. MOVE.

Second, nutrition. Because movement every day must be supported by your nutrition. But your brain also responds to what you put in your body (duh, right? but not so much in the mainstream medical community). Play with your diet. Go in with no assumptions. See what makes you feel ALIVE and full of energy. Don't let anyone tell you to eat in any way that does not support those outcomes. Don't let anyone guilt you into any other way of eating that does not match your needs.

Third, aside from nutrition, WATER. Most people I know are dehydrated and there are some physicians who are starting to (oh, the radical!) notice that dementia is not about aging but about dehydration plus...guess what? Decreased movement.

Fourth, and this is something a lot of people don't think about: Spirituality, which is another word for Deep Connection. Find a connection to something bigger than you, bigger than the trauma, because trauma creates disconnect and makes us feel like we are special in a bad way. We're not.

Yep. That's a formula. If you did all those things EVERY DAY with intention, I guarantee (yes, I said that) that your brain and then your life would change.

Back to the present

All these years later, this really does hold. And please pay attention to my wording. I was super careful back then about how I said these things and it matters to this day.

How small things can bring big results

An extra beautiful bouquet that Cat Daddy brought home a couple of weeks ago.

My new morning routine is to NOT lie in bed and drown in news, but instead, I listen to a Chani meditation or teaching (I have the paid app and it's super worth it, FYI), and then I get up, put on my damn leggings, and do a Japanese slow jog on my treadmill while I watch a podcast. (A little something about that technique.)

Here's the thing: I only do this for 10 minutes. It's all I can convince myself to do at this point. (And I do the jog thing because I have learned from SO LONG of trying that my body does not want to be creative first thing... it takes me a while to really wake up. I’ve tried waking and dancing first thing and it only leads to frustration.)

Here's the other thing: IT IS DOING THINGS TO MY BRAIN.

I've always preached that it can be as simple as one song. But the part that's left out with that is the sweat.

You have to sweat. One song can be enough to alter your brain chemistry a bit but you have to dance vigorously and get a bit of a sweat on. (And the more minutes, the better over time... that's just reality.)

OR you can dance to one song and SING LOUDLY and that will affect your brain without you needing to really sweat. That's why car singing on the way to work can make such a difference for people.

Why? THE BREATH. It's pretty much all about the breath and getting those lungs pumping -- sweating and/or singing will both do that.

And doing this first thing in the morning is, of course, setting me up for a bit of a better day.

It's not enough to totally deal with the intensity of my depression but it gives me the bit of chemistry to make better decisions later in the day. If I start my day with movement, I’m more likely to move more throughout the day. And then over time, cumulatively, my brain will get better and better.

But for now, ten minutes can have a domino effect. You can surely find ten minutes. We do all kinds of mind numbing things for ten minutes… watch TV, just sit and rot, scroll on our phones.

It’s hard, though, to make different choices. And it’s a bit of pain in the ass that making better choices leads to making more better choices. ((sigh))

As I’ve said before, there’s no magicks but in

Movement play inspiration for your new year

I would like to say happy new year but I’m writing this on January 6th and I’m just not feeling it. I’m assuming most (if not all) of you reading this are on the same page.

I also just taught at the residential recovery center and spent that time talking to someone about their fears about what’s coming. Wherever I go, people are anxious and worried. January feels like we’re collectively holding our breath until the 20th and the few days after. But then I think we’ve all been doing that to some degree since the night of the election.

Here’s hoping that the guardrails hold…

Regardless we need to keep moving forward, and focusing our energy on the things we can actually control becomes more important than ever.

Taking care of ourselves and filling ourselves with joyful energy is crucial if we are ever to build the kind of world that I know we all want — one of inclusivity, compassion, and real love… the kind of love that values every being as worthy.

With that in mind, I come to my main new year’s intention: to get back my sense of passion and playfulness with my own dance/movement practices, rather than only feeling that way when I’m teaching.

I’m starting slowly with about ten minutes at noon every day. I got a fun disco light just for this. I turn that on and put on a list of 80s dance music. I don’t “try” to “do” or experiment or create. Just dance. That’s it. Let it flow.

Next week, I’ll be building more aspects of my practice.

And in preparation for all of this, I’ve created a playlist of inspiration on YouTube that you also can access by hitting the upper right corner where it says 1/16 on the video below or click here. There’s only one of my own videos on this list and then other things that you can skip around in for ideas.

I’ll add to this list whenever I come across anything that fits that bill.

Let me know if you have any videos you think belong on it.

New free weekly experiments

I can’t believe how long it’s been since I’ve written. Yoga Teacher Training has just made my summer so much busier and so much more tiring than I could have ever anticipated. As you read this, I will be days away from finishing! YAY!

New free stuff

In the meantime, I’m starting a new weekly share on my Facebook business page and Instagram. If you aren’t connected to me on either of those, maybe go do it so you don’t miss these. I won’t share them on my blog except every so often.

The weekly share will be around the idea of “experiment of one.”

And it will always be something really simple to play with. We want ease in these practices.

Also? We want to build a sense of devotion and not one of powering-through.

Here’s this week’s:

All week long, just notice your sitting habits. Whether at your desk, in front of the TV, in the car... wherever you sit, notice what you typically do.

Then take it another step: notice and change. See if you can find different ways of entering into your seat and different ways of sitting. Challenge yourself to be uncomfortable for a bit.

I would love to hear if you learn anything interesting!