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.

Joy and Grief Live Side by Side in Memory

We had a beautiful wedding to attend this past Saturday in Erie, and I also made sure that our schedule allowed for a couple of hours at the beach, rather than the five minutes that that important part of myself usually gets allotted.

Craig went running with his brother, and so I had about 45 minutes of that time just for me, my iced latte, chocolate croissant, and a bit of journaling and reading.

I started to read a Virginia Woolf I’ve somehow not read (Between the Acts), and the morning was perfection. There’s something about me and Woolf and water. When I first moved to Chicago for grad school at the age of 23, I sat on the edge of that lake and read Mrs. Dalloway and that memory will forever beckon me.

That memory will forever beckon me… That sentence is filled with nostalgia and sentimentality and joy and grief, isn’t it?

When we left Erie, I, as usual, felt a mixture of sadness and anger. I love that lake and am linked to it forever. And yet that town, that small city, does not seem to be able to recover itself from its identity of “GE town,” and I fear that that inability to move on will be its death. Every time we go home, it seems a little more critical in terms of its health.

Remember I lived in the actual CITY — not out in some suburb — for well over 20 years. I lived in a realm of hope that turned into delusion that turned into bitterness, until I realized that I was becoming some sort of toxic version of myself and needed to move on… needed to MOVE, period. I could no longer tolerate the constant talk of “any day now” for which there was never any real evidence. (Entrenched politicians are greatly to blame for what’s happening in Erie but that’s another blog post and not my point here.)

I was born on the edge of the bay in the old Hamot Hospital.

We soon moved away and then moved back. My entire childhood would be a series of moving away and returning, over and over, as my father pursued higher and higher education.

Every time we moved away, we knew it was temporary. We would lament not being in Erie. We would look forward to the year or month or day that we got to move back.

In every school I went to in all the different places we lived, I would be that little girl, red in the face, defending her beloved home against the taunts of “dreary Erie, the mistake on the lake.”

The ache for a return to Erie was born and bred into me.

I myself have tried to move away a few times, and each time, like some migrating bird, I end up back there, unable to resist the pull… the very magnetism of that lake, my true north.

But this time is different.

We are in Columbus, and though I love it here and I love our house, this too might not be permanent. I don’t think I can live the rest of my life without big water, but I will not return to Erie.

We will find a place to put roots that has big water but that does not break my heart with its stilted ways and cliquey groups of humans that seem to be stuck in high school concepts of relationship. (I think that’s an inevitable sort of outcome in a very small city where people can’t let go of the ideas that they have of others from when they were teenagers.)

Where we are right now is growing, and that matters… An environment of growth and change that is future oriented allows for humans to grow and change and evolve into new and exciting versions of themselves.

But with all of the good of this place, it is not the place to which I am tethered. The sense of tugging can be very subtle most days and other days it’s quite painful. Visiting Erie brings all of this up for me every single time, and for many days after, the pain of the loss returns full force.

Home is where the heart is and yet sometimes home is where there is too much pain so we must do our best and find new, fertile ground (and water) that allows our hearts to heal and expand.

Not Joy: a brief time at the hospital

Sunday morning I woke up feeling perfectly normal. I was lying in bed with Begonia and my phone and just lazing, when suddenly I was in more pain than I’ve ever experienced in my life. Eventually, we ended up at the ER. Eventually, I got serious pain meds, and eventually, we learned it was a kidney stone. They kept me over night for pain management (because it was that bad). By that evening, though, it was subsiding, and by the next morning’s 2nd CT, they could see it had shrunk a bit, so now I’m at home with some meds and basically waiting for this to be done.

Spending 30 hours in the hospital was not something I saw coming. And I’m still reeling a bit from how FAST something like that can happen. You know it intellectually and maybe you’ve experienced it via a loved one, but until it happens in your own body, it’s still very… abstract.

I’m thinking a lot about people who have to spend longer in the hospital; I’m thinking about people who are constantly battling a day to day chronic disease or illness that includes severe pain, which means exhaustion; I’m thinking about these bodies and how very fragile we all really are.

I wanted to share some things I observed at the hospital about medical care and myself:

Firstly, we often only hear about how horrible medical care is now. How there are too few good nurses and docs. But the hospital I went to was amazing, and I had a string of nurses and doctors that were compassionate, listened well, and just made me feel really well taken care of.

Secondly, something I noticed about myself… even in the midst of having extreme pain, I was worried about what was happening with other people around me. What?! People pleasing is deeply engrained and it kept taking me by surprise throughout this whole experience.

And finally, as we were leaving, I said to Craig, “No food tastes better than staying out of the hospital…”

I had been reading about kidney stones, and how once you have one, you’re more likely to have more. But the reason? Because only about 40% of people follow doctor’s orders or change their diets after that first one.

It reminds me of another stat: that after a heart attack, only ONE IN SEVEN people make changes that would help.

Surprises can happen. Shit happens. But there’s a space in all of this where we can make a difference for ourselves. It might be that what we do can only bring a bit of energy and comfort because whatever’s wrong isn’t going anywhere, but if we’re lucky, things we do can actually decrease our chances of these shitty surprises and even increase our health.

By “health” I mean our vitality… our ability to fully engage in our lives.

So yeah… there’s no food I wouldn’t get rid of or add in order to avoid a kidney stone again. And there’s no way I’m skipping out on movement because movement always matters; it keeps things flowing… literally.

I’m exhausted from the pain and the big time narcotics they (thankfully) pushed into my system, but I’m resting and then GAME ON. Again.

JoyMusic: Something to move to and something to sing with

Last week, at some point, I shared about a list of women only artists that I made on Spotify. I embedded the player. Which was cool. Until it didn’t show up in the email version of this that a lot of you are reading. GRRR! So here’s the list. Just click. From now on, I’ll embed (cause cool) AND share a link the old school way.

A student/friend (Linda Soto for those of you who know her) sent me this song the other day and it was an instant love. SO FUN.

My favorite song for vocal warmup right now is this older Peter Gabriel (and my warmups are usually him… he gets everything going with putting strain).

I would LOVE to hear what is really moving YOU right now! You know I am always looking for new stuff.

JoyList: things that made me think of you

Starting off with a rather heavy share, this piece is worth the read. Obituary for a quiet life immediately brought a beautiful wave of memories of my papa (my paternal grandfather). As I said in the sanctuary, it brought to mind a specific memory, a story that he loved to share.

We were visiting him and my nana in Florida and I must have been about 4. (That photo to the right is probably about the time.) We were at a small shopping area, and I was holding his hand as we made our way down the busy sidewalks. And every time someone passed and I caught their eye, I would pronounce, “ THIS IS MY PAPA!”

So yeah… be prepared for some big feelings when you read that piece. I can’t stop thinking about it and would love to hear what you get out of it.

Speaking of connections… I did it. I joined another social. But you know what? I’ve actually missed the old school twitter of 12 years ago. I had quite the following on there and it felt so authentically FUN and I could just be my silly self sharing silly thoughts. I didn’t use it for anything other than that level of connection and I’m going to use THREADS the same way. If you’re there, please be sure to connect!

Speaking of connections (and now I’m cracking myself up)… I created a new short about a really effective and gentle psoas stretch.

The book I’m currently reading, Little Gods, is freaking amazing. I’m only a wee bit in and I’m already in awe of the author, Meng Jin, especially since this is her debut novel.

I got a notebook specifically for the Re/Joy Project process that I talked about in yesterday’s post. It’s not journaling or gratitude listing. It’s noticing and naming. (Like I said, read that post.) I’ll be writing more about this as I experiment myself but I already love it.

I would be remiss if I didn’t note that a 4 week July session starts next week, the week of July 10th. If it’s been a while since you’ve taken a class, it would be most awesome to see you!

We went to the Dayton Art Institute last weekend, and it exceeded my expectations by far, considering its size. The building is WHOA! If you’re anywhere near there, I recommend it. (We’re looking at early October for a visit to Chicago and that art institute and Dayton’s just made me even more excited. It’s been too long since I’ve been to Chicago…)

I’m fully obsessed with tennis again after a couple of weeks of wonky weather and such, and if you play tennis and love those little skirts but also DON’T, look what I just found.

Finally, summer movies are, once again, FUN or at least BIG, and for the first time in a long time, I’m excited about them.

We just saw the new Indiana and I think it was actually a beautiful look at what age and life events can do to us and how there’s always hope. I’m looking forward to Barbie (it’s more than a fluff piece), Oppenheimer, and Mission Impossible (because I’m sorry but I grew up with Tom Cruise and I know he’s a nut but boy do I love him in action flicks).

What are you looking forward to this summer, movies or otherwise?

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…

JoyMoves: the importance of weight training after injury

It seems antithetical, right? You’re recovering from an injury and then you should put weight on that injury!?

At a certain point, yes.

You know I suffered from two consecutive frozen shoulders over a year and a half. I ended up needing steroid shots in each a few months apart. I needed those shots so I could even do the physical therapy I was creating for myself.

Those shots let me gain range of motion back. I needed time when that was all I was focused on, but I got to a point where I felt stuck in my recovery. Nothing new was happening. Nothing was changing.

Then I got the helpful book below, and I only needed to read a few pages to understand that I was missing weight lifting… strength building

I’ve always talked about (if you’ve been around me enough) that mobility is flexibility plus strength (control).

When I was younger, I was super flexible and my joints were lax. I had no real idea of strength (control), so I was constantly suffering from free floating pain and minor injuries. I was young, so it would all heal really fast and I would continue with my circus freak tricks.

When I tell you that the very day I started doing (super light) weight training targeted at my shoulders that I felt an instant difference, I am not exaggerating. I’ve been doing it ever since and slowly building the amount of weight and the variety of movements.

My right shoulder is at 100% and I’d say my left is around 95% or higher. My idea of mobility in my shoulders is a bit extreme… again, I have lax joints… but now those joints are supported. I can still do things most people can’t do but I can feel the muscle activity more clearly. I also have an ever deepening ability to feel the precise moments when I am about to go too far. (That ability has been growing since I started to dance again at 40 but now it’s finding new levels.)

If you want to explore this but have some fears/concerns about it, remember that you can always ask me.

JoyMusic: Something new to move to

Definitely how I feel.

I love that we have musicians and composers right in the midst of our circles, including in the sanctuary.

I want to encourage you to, firstly, look for women, nonbinary people, and people of color when you’re looking for new composers in particular. There are so many amazing composers out there who don’t fit the usual stereotype and are NOT, of course, getting the attention or the work that they deserve. (Side note: If you have a local philharmonic, check out their schedule and see if they’re including any women. So many just do not. Then maybe contact them.)

Secondly, I encourage you to always be listening to new things… and MOVING to new things. It wakes up different parts of your brain and bodymind. It’s important. Nostalgia music also plays a part but new stuff is even more important in terms of brain health.

All of that said, today I bring you the work of Trista Hill, who happens to live near me in Columbus (but is someone I’ve been connected to for longer… I think… it’s hard to keep track!).

Trista plays the harp and here is her bandcamp for a project with a cellist. It’s not what you would expect. It’s quite exciting. I never would have thought of the harp this way.

Look to the right hand column and also check out Urban Elegance. (And everything else, of course.)

Next up is Helen Yee, whom I’ve definitely been connected to for many years, including having the opportunity to move with her in classes and a long ago, first attempt at a long distance choreography project.

She is a violinist and composer working in a field that both of us have a hard time putting language too… avant guard? Minimalist? Hmmm…

Here’s her soundcloud.

Let me know if you know of anyone different and exciting in the world of composing.