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Learning In My Discomfort

Hello, friends!

I saw a dance performance this week that moved me – both in good and not-so-good ways. A lecture by Louise Hay started the performance, explaining how we have the power to heal ourselves of disease by choosing what we focus on, how we move, who we spend time with, what we eat, etc. As the lecture was broadcast, the dancers were crawling around the stage, first clothed than naked. Just before colliding with one another, they would jolt and change directions. It spoke to how we avoid one another, trying to stay in our own lanes. At one point, the dancers started doing bendy/advanced yoga poses on different parts of the stage. Which then morphed into acro yoga/partner yoga.

The show ended with what felt like a rise of consciousness — an evolution. One woman stood up and began to scream, moving her arms upwards as if pulling things out of herself and yelling — releasing what was deep within her. She became Kali, holding a sword, cutting through ignorance. By the end, all the dancers were screaming and had come together, unified and then fell silent. Lights went out. There was a flash, and they had become one. Lights out, show over.

It was a powerful piece. The nudity and primal sounds, barking then screaming, were unnerving. It was a reminder of our animal nature. Half the time, I was unsure where to look as the dancers were performing the yoga poses — spreading their legs in the splits or inversions. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the performance of yoga. Here was a practice I hold very dear to my heart being used as a performance tool — by naked people, no less! Wait — when did I become dogmatic? Isn’t this art? Isn’t yoga a celebration of our bodies? Where does the line of art end and objectification begin? Which side of the line were they on? Who was I to judge where that line is?

This must be good art if I walked away thinking, questioning and examining my values! My friend and I spent the next hour dissecting this show; how we felt, what we learned about ourselves. What we thought the choreographer was trying to convey.

Observing where and when I become uncomfortable is an opportunity to learn/dive deeper into my own psyche.

When was the last time you were uncomfortable?

What did you learn about yourself?

What did you do with your discomfort?

I leave you with this — I don’t always seek it out, but when I observe myself squirming, I take a deep breath — staying in the discomfort and observing what about the situation is making me uncomfortable.

What I got out of last night was a realization that I’m a bit precious when it comes to my yoga — momma likes it dressed and sacred.

Sitting in my discomfort,

Clara

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