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.

SPECIAL! Four week, 70 minute Kundalini Plus session!

It’s that time again!

Reminders:

• you can participate live or you can just use the videos which are available the following day

• you can participate live AND use the videos all you want because they stay up for all four weeks

• there is a music list that you can use or not

• it’s easier to have music on one device and your video on another

• you’ll all be muted and my music will be on earbuds

• times are Eastern United States

• we meet on zoom

If you’ve never experienced Kundalini Plus as taught by me, go read over here for more information.

I’m calling it Kundalini Plus, because one, as I’ve written about over here, I don’t want to say I’m teaching yoga any more. And two, if you know me, you know I never teach straight up any system. I mix stuff together and see what happens.

So this class will be lots of circular movements and natural movements and tons of breath work and just that deep sense of shared ritual that we’ve all come to love.

You’ll be guided the entire hour, so if you’re not into free movement, there isn’t any.

DAY and TIME: Sundays, 5:30 to 6:40 PM (class “opens” at 5:25)
DATES: October 2, 9, 23, and 30 (no class on the 16th because I’m traveling)
COST: $75 (if this is an issue, please never hesitate to say so and we’ll work something out)

Dance is NOT exercise

No matter how much I talk and write about this, the wider culture’s use of dance is louder than me, so I guess I’ll simply be saying variations of this for the rest of my life. ((ha))

This is something I wrote recently on my linkedin (and it’s followed by another clarification so jump ahead if you’ve already seen this italicized part):

I just saw someone, on a trauma related post, write "exercise/dance," and it made me wince.

To start, I can't stand the word or idea of exercise. Our culture has turned it into half/part of various punishment equations (and these are just off the top of my head):

Exercise = being allowed to eat something yummy

Exercise x Self Denial = being a size that we find acceptable

Exercise x a lot of luck related variables = health as a virtue

To equate dance with any of that just makes me grrrr...

Because the dance world is already steeped in self abusive behaviors and the encouragement of self hatred if you don't meet certain criteria.

Beyond that, our wider culture has turned dance into something only done by certain bodies in certain ways.

Or we think of it as something that we do publicly if we've had enough to drink.

Dance is a sacred human endeavor meant for expression and connection. Period.

Dance is literally in our genes, as it was the first way -- along with drumming and fire -- that we made ritual.

It was also, very likely, how we came together and created the illusion of something larger to scare off threats.

It is written into us to move to music and sound and with others.

And THAT is why it's so damn effective when treating/healing/exploring trauma.

I rarely use the word “dance” when I’m talking about The Peony Method because there’s so much about that word that can trigger so many humans, including really negative experiences with dance teachers in childhood.

So I often say movement or movement art, but we are dancing, just as the whole universe dances itself into and out of the cycles of destruction and construction over and over and over…

But there are MASSIVE differences between what I do and what most people think of when they hear the word dance, and there are just as huge differences between what I do and what a lot of what’s called “conscious dance” looks like.

We are never dancing or moving to check out or to “transcend.” We are moving to become more awake and to bring more awareness to this bodily experience life. We are moving to feel and to process and to open.

This really is the piece most people are missing if they are doing talk therapy. Talk all you want but eventually you have to come face to face with your lack of embodiment and you have to become embodied to move forward and grow.

If we really want healing and freedom, the body is the way, and you must be willing to move this body in the way it is crying/screaming/asking to move. And that won’t look like anything anyone else has ever done.

In that context, I give you “structure without stricture.”

This photo shows what I mean by "structure without stricture." Each person in this photo is both listening to the same music AND responding to the same exact prompt...

This is a practice that meets you where you are, day to day, and evolves with you over time. The Peony Method is freedom.

Aging, user error, and movement play

A lot (not all) of what we refer to as "aging" could actually be categorized as user error. And again, I'm not talking about complicated process like disease, illness, injury, but the typical things we blame on aging.

We don't pay attention to water intake. There are physicians who would corroborate that a lot of our issues are around dehydration, from what happens with our skin to fatigue to brain fog/memory issues.

We stop moving so we stop being able to move. We say things like, “if I get down on the floor, I can’t get back up… age!” No. Did you spend any time on the floor before this age? So many just don’t. Stop relying on all that furniture; make friends with the floor and the ground.

We start seeing the cumulative effects of bad choices from earlier in life that we thought were okay because nothing bad was happening immediately. Everything from overeating sugars, etc., to drinking every day, to smoking, to never ever picking up a weight or trying to squat or or or... We say “my numbers are great!” until they aren’t and then what? AGE! But really in so many cases? Our choices.

Even the inches thing — we think it’s inevitable that we SHRINK! But as I’ve mentioned before, I have had elder dancers regain inches — INCHES — after mere months of this work.

Here's what I've observed from years of working with humans over 65 (and many other humans who were younger but already feeling effects that looked like aging):

It's never too late to start feeling better.

And as my elder dancer Betty would say, "tell people it's also never TOO EARLY, Christine!"

To be clear, this isn’t about “exercising” and it’s not about sweating your ass off (though that might happen here and there): it’s about joyful, flowing, natural, inquisitive movement in community.

It’s the sort of thing we should all be doing from day one and it’s the sort of thing that we naturally keep doing because it’s so easeful and calming and smiley. And it becomes, over time, the space where we process everything, the space where we honor and pray, the space where we rejuvenate and relax, the space where we connect to self and all and everything.