JoyList: Interesting research and other schtuff

I have a bunch of tabs open with research so here we go…

FIRST I will start with a request: any time you come across any kind of research or anything interesting about the body and movement, can you please email me a link? THANK YOU!

They’ve created vibrating haptic suits for deaf people to experience music on a new level, but I also want to try these! How amazing.

You know how I feel about the word exercise, but this article is certainly worth a read. Replace “exercise” with movement or play, and I think it makes the findings even more DUH. And I sure love the name they’ve given myokines — “hope molecules.” Perfect.

This study shows even more clearly that muscle weakness as we age is associated with all cause mortality. And they observed 1200 individuals over an 8 to 10 year period.

Remember that to get really strong you don’t need weights. You just need to use your own body weight really well, considering alignment, mobility, and chageability of task. (Which is a lot of what floor work is about in Peony Method classes.)

And this study looked at 80,000 people (yep… 80,000) and it shows that strength training is more effective than cardio in terms of cancer prevention.

If you’re not yet clear on this, the new Barbie film is not just some fluff piece but rather a strong feminist film. So maybe, if you’re thinking NAH…, consider going. In the meantime, the music lists are super fun. Here’s one.

An 11 minute butoh video that is recent. I think if you just jump around in this randomly, you’ll come upon some idea to work with in your own body.

This article about the neuroscience of dance is filled with links to other studies. This is a field that is not new to me and my students, but it’s finally getting the serious research it deserves.

Re/Joy in this shitty time

Name one era when you think things were better, and I’ll be 100% correct that it wasn’t, no matter what time you name. History repeats itself, for sure. If one group isn’t marginalized, a whole host of others are.

When I was in college in the late 80’s/early 90s, things did feel like they were somehow shifting. Yet even that was an illusion: the economy was tanking, poverty was rising, homelessness was worse than ever (thanks, Reagan), incarcerations were on the rise and wouldn’t stop (and won’t stop), the war on drugs was targeting the wrong thing and the wrong people (for the most part), people were banning music (remember that?), the excess of the few was the leap off of the cliff that would start the real climate spiral, and I could go on.

Today things feel worse because they’re so much more on the surface and in our face pretty much 24/7. We had a toxic idiot of a President that made all hate acceptable in a very public way. (Some would argue we needed to see that … that too many of us were still living in denial… I kinda agree.)

So all times have, technically, been shitty times. For someone. For groups of someones.

And yet humanity keeps trying to move forward. Honorable or stupid? Some days I go back and forth depending on how exhausted and angry I’m feeling.

Most days… most days, I feel like we’re to be admired for a seemingly bottomless well of hope and effort and optimism.

Most days, I understand that those of us with access to hope and effort and optimism have to hold on to those things, if not for ourselves then for those who just can’t anymore.

To do this requires a certain kind of mental, emotional, and spiritual musculature. It’s easy, in this world, to allow that to atrophy, and then when we need it, to act surprised by its weakness.

In other words, we have to use some of our effort muscle to keep our hope, effort, and optimism muscles in shape. The world needs them.

How do we do this? What is the “gym” of this sort of workout?

It’s the very world that we can find so utterly reprehensible.

But we need to take that world in our hands and turn it every so slightly so we’re looking at it from a different angle: we need to look at it in better lighting so that we can see the beauty and love there. There are days that no matter how much we adjust the angle or the lighting that the beauty and love we find feels just about… microscopic. But that doesn’t matter.

It’s in this noticing and then in the naming that we work out. This is our gym. These are the weights we lift over and over for strength. The treadmills we walk and run for stamina. The stretches we use to maintain mobility.

And these sorts of workouts for emotional, mental, and spiritual musculature need to be as consistent as any we do for our bodies. You know full well that you can’t run a marathon if you’ve been sitting on the couch for the entire year leading up to it. You’re not surprised that you can’t deadlift some crazy amount if you’ve never picked up anything heavier than a soup can.

But we act surprised by our own exhaustion over the work of the world when we’ve done very little to maintain our healthy connection to that same world. We wonder at our anger and our rage that is paralyzing when we’ve done nothing to feed our joy that is mobilizing.

Start small, just like you would with any exercise program. Small steps, small amounts, build slowly but be mindful and intentional and persistent to the point of stubborn.

Start today: go outside with a small notebook and just make lists of everything you see that you love. Do this for… five minutes. Then do it tomorrow and the day after and the day after…

Making ugly noise to get to the beauty

I wrote these words about 2 weeks ago on someone else’s post on Facebook:

I keep thinking about this as I venture further into my singing lessons. I keep thinking about a documentary about the making of the Joshua Tree (I can't find it to watch it again... it seems to have disappeared...)... Anyway, there's this part where Bono has written the words for I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For and the music was already done. But he has to figure out HOW to sing it... BONO... right? And whoa... it struck me exactly this... he had NO FEAR of sounding AWFUL and THAT is why he can do what he does. So now when I'm practicing, I push like that... just like I would do in dance, of course, but singing for me has been such a fear thing that it's more tender and vulnerable... but I push like that... where can I go that it's BAD... because RIGHT AROUND THERE... that's where you'll find awesome hanging out. 

I wrote that about 2 weeks ago, and since then, so much has changed.

So that little story — and this adventure I’m taking with singing — remember, it’s literal for me, but it’s simultaneously one giant metaphor for all of us, and it’s all about living life fully.

Over the last two weeks, because I’ve been willing to make ugly noises, to falter, to crack, to just sound like OUCH!, I’ve started to truly find my voice.

And under all that fear that I’ve lived with for so long, what am I finding?

That my voice is BIG and it’s sassy and ferocious and demanding.

It makes me think about my honest dance. I’m an aggressive mover when I’m fully in my body, so it’s no wonder that I’m an aggressive singer. (If the word aggressive makes you uncomfortable, sit with that because it’s my preferred word here and if it triggers you in some way, that’s your trigger to pay attention to. I stop to say this because over my life when I use that word, so many WOMEN correct me and say I mean assertive. No. I mean aggressive.)

I also don’t think it’s a coinkydink that once my singing lessons started, my shoulders reached new levels of healing. During a Peony Method class this week, I could feel my whole body connected in a way it hasn’t been for almost two years, thanks to a lot of factors, including Peony’s death and two frozen shoulders.

And they were frozen, for sure. The shots I got were totally necessary, but there’s some woo here, isn’t there?

Shoulders… how many times (if you’ve been in classes with me for long) have you heard me say, “Many women are weak in the shoulder area and that makes sense because it’s the connection space between heart and throat… how many of us are not saying what needs to be said and it’s stuck right at that shoulder level?”

I was obviously talking to myself.

So much...

Sometimes when I’m not writing a lot, it’s because there’s so much going on that I either am pressed for time or my brain needs time to process what’s happening in a way that it can be written about. Right now, it’s both of those things.

For now, I want to let you know that weekly classes will start up again the week of January 23rd. Please go here to read about what I’m offering and to register!

And I’ll be writing about what’s happening soon!

End of the Year Session and A New Drop In Option

The last session of the year for classes is a November/December, six week session with weeks off at the end of December.

I’ve replaced the usual Tuesday/Thursday Quickie with Quickie BalletOm, which some of you may remember taking with me at various places. It’s a 30 minute version.

There’s a Tuesday and/or Thursday Peony Method.

Go here for registration and more information.

But there’s something new that I’ve not done in FOREVER:

Drop in opportunity...

I don't usually do drop ins, but after last session when I let a new student into the Thursday version of the Peony Method, it struck me that a) the Thursday session is NOT for newbies. (You can take ANY class with me and then you'd be fine in Thursday.)

And b) I COULD let people do drop ins during the Tuesday class because that tends to be more of a fundamental/foundational approach to the Peony Method (which is appropriate no matter what level you're at).

SO...

For the end of the year session, which is six weeks during November and December, with time off at the end of the year, I'm opening Tuesdays up to drop ins.

HOW IT WORKS

You need to contact me directly either on Facebook or via email or in response to this newsletter and let me know what Tuesday you’d be interested in.

A drop in is $20 so I'll give you my email to either PayPal or Venmo that.

Once I get that, I'll give you the instructions about how to be in and do the class.

I hate running so why am I doing it?

I’m not. I’m not technically running. I’m slow jogging, which is a very different thing.

But first… WHY? I’ve been uber clear about how much I hate running. It just doesn’t feel good in my body. But a couple of years ago, I think it was that long, I heard about this concept of slow jogging and I watched a video and thought it made sense. Still… wasn’t interested.

Then along comes tennis and one of my biggest issues is my legs aren’t fast enough. (My cardio also sucked the first couple of times but that improved quickly.)

I knew I needed something to support not just my tennis but the things I envision for my dance work in the coming years.

So the other day, I was on my desk treadmill and some good music was playing and I wanted to go faster but I was barefoot. I turned up my speed and found myself very naturally… slow jogging.

I looked up more videos, and yep, my body, in bare feet at just the right speed, had naturally done the technique correctly.

You keep everything low like walking, back straight up, land on the balls of your feet, and don’t try to kick the ground away.

You should be able to talk or sing quite easily or you’re going too fast.

There are a ton of benefits but just a few to start:

1. This is super kind to your joints. Unlike with full out jogging/running, you’re very unlikely to injure yourself.

2. It still gives you all the aerobic advantages while also…

3. Preparing you to go faster (if that’s a goal).

4. And for women in peri/menopause, this is great for our freaking hormones and metabolism.

Right now I’m starting small and easy, only going for about ten minutes at a time on my treadmill in bare feet.

Over time, I’ll add longer bits, but this is perfection. I FEEL FANTASTIC after but don’t feel gross or out of breath. It’s the perfect balance of ease and challenge!

Here’s a video about all of this, but even just watching the beginning (wait until the woman in pink joins him), you’ll see the technique pretty clearly.

Another way to get going is to do one minute of this, then one minute of walking, and so on. (Slow jogging intervals.)

Tennis came to teach me all the things I have been forgetting

My favorite tennis partner

Where to begin… I haven’t played tennis since my late 20s and now I’m 53.

When Craig and I were first dating, he used to say to me that he thought it would be fun if we could be a runner couple. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

No.

If you know me well enough, you are laughing along with me. I hate running. I did a running experiment for a while and I accomplished my goal — to run a straight mile without stopping or feeling like I was going to die — and then I stopped. Just like that. Because like I said, I hate running.

But that said, I understood what he wanted: something we could do together. Beyond going to the gym or practicing pilates at home. Something more… engaging.

So he started asking me to play tennis, knowing I had played when I was younger. I had been thinking about it for quite some time before I even met him, but I always decided no because dance was(is) my life and I thought, why do something during which I could get injured and be limited in my dancing?

But then I had two frozen shoulders over the course of the last year or so. Due to no sudden injury. They just… happened (which they can). I got shots but not surgery and I worked my ass off by myself with not PT besides my own PT to get my shoulders back in working order.

Every. Single. Day.

One is 100% better and the other lingers around 95% (but I know that will also get to 100).

And then suddenly, one morning not too long ago, I announced to him out of the blue that we would be buying rackets that day. (This is often how I function. Seemingly suddenly but there’s been a lot going on in the background.)

I have loved the sport of tennis since I was a tiny girl, sitting just outside the fence, watching her father play. (He was truly gifted. For real.) I would sit with the big red thermos (you probably had one like it), and just watch … for hours.

When I got to be about 8, I think, he would then let me hit a few balls when he was done, and so it started.

I got on the boys’ tennis team in high school because there was no girls’ team and so they had to let me try out and I succeeded. But I never got as good as I could have because I didn’t work hard. I half assed. (That’s another and longer story.)

Around the age of 23, I was playing tennis at a court at Penn State Behrend and the tennis coach got all excited, thinking I was a student, and telling me he could probably get me some scholarship money. He had seen me rush the net and play hard, something that was rare for him to see in those days from a female player.

Alas, I was no longer a student but the memory is a loved one, for sure.

Fast forward to about a month ago, we got our rackets, and got home late, so we waited until the next day to go play.

I was so freaking nervous. I have serious public performance anxiety with everything BUT dance. I hate people seeing me struggle. (Another long story right there.)

I told him, “If there are a lot of people already playing, I’m not playing. You can just practice serving.” He was okay with that.

There were a lot of people playing. But I got on the court and the second I bounced the ball, I was in it.

And I kinda sucked. OF COURSE I DID. It’s been about 25 years. But I also kinda… didn’t.

We play about three times a week and here’s the point of this long blog… I am relearning all the things that dance taught me at the age of 40.

First, play is the most important thing we can do for our mental health. Do something you love but here’s the kicker… do something that makes you LAUGH. I LAUGH a lot on the court.

But also? Do something that you love that brings out your inner “warrior.” I growl and yell on the court just as much as I laugh. Guess what? I am having just as much fun whichever I am doing.

Second, when I am moving on the tennis court, there is NOTHING ELSE IN MY WORLD. And in those moments, I am ABSOLUTELY FREE.

Dance taught me that at 40 and I was a bit shocked when I realized that tennis was teaching me the same lesson. Again, do the things you love… the physical things… because it is this level of embodiment that brings us into a state of total alignment with ourselves and this life.

Third, I am built to move. So are you. So are all of us. But I am really really built to move. I mean, there is no depression, no anxiety, no anything but the true me when I am moving. (Again, same for you. You just need to find right things.)

Fourth, I love life when and after I move. Because we are bags of chemicals and movement stirs up all the good ones.

I’m sure there’s more but that’s enough for now.

Go play! Now!

Why Slow?

““The times are urgent; let us slow down.””

— — Bayo Akomolafe

When we practice slow in the Peony Method, it's not just to practice being physically slow. Though it is that to some degree, as slower physical practices are, truly, more challenging.

Why? To start, you can’t “cheat” with momentum. Going slowly, you’ll also feel more — including if you’re pushing past a limit of some sort that could lead to injury.

You’re also able to observe your body’s strengths and deficiencies more closely.

If you DO have an injury, you can take your time working around it… flirting with its edges, deciding what to work with and what to let rest.

Slow practices also allow more focus on good breath work but also on different types of breath work. (If you’ve been in my classes, one example would be when we only move during suspended inhales or exhales.)

But beyond all of this (and I’ve really only started to touch on the physical advantages of slow), the slow in the Peony Method is about the emotional/mental/spiritual aspects of your BodyMind.

We hear our body’s messages more clearly. We hear where things might be stuck — whether old trauma, recent grief, or any emotion that is in need of your attention. It’s all in the body, of course.

We hear our heart's truth better when we slow down. The heart can speak in whispers and our busy, chaotic world is often too much for it.

We hear/feel our connections when we’re slower — whether to ourselves, our wiser self, something bigger, each other.

Truth, wisdom, the next move, the right idea… it all has the space it needs to arise and get your attention when we’re moving slowly.

This is not to say that faster movement doesn’t have its own set of pros. But our culture — including our movement culture — prizes FASTER, BIGGER, BETTER.

The Peony Method is the antidote to all of that.