Fearing Ourselves

When was the last time you laughed so hard milk came out of your noseFree dance is in my thoughts often these days – more often then in previous periods.


During one of the Nia intensives I participated in I overheard another quip, “Free dance is not free!”

According to Dictionary.com, “free” is defined as the following:

Adjective: Not under the control or in the power of another; able to act or be done as one wishes.

adjective.  loose – open – gratuitous – vacant – independent
adverb.  gratis – freely – for nothing – loosely – free of charge
verb.  release – liberate – deliver – set free – rid – disengage
(verb used with object)
to compose and perform or deliver without previous preparation; extemporize: to improvise an acceptance speech.
to compose, play, recite, or sing (verse, music, etc.) on the spur of the moment.

to make, provide, or arrange from whatever materials are readily available: We improvised a dinner from yesterday’s leftovers.
Don’t we all want to be free?
Don’t we all want the space – emotional as well as physical – to do as we choose?
Do we, after all?

What are the obstacles that stand in my way to knowing myself? In my world, to know my Dance is to know myself. When I dance, I dance as no one else.

My Dance doesn’t often (perhaps never does it) resemble that of another. Why should it? I am not another. My path has been the one I took and it is the one only I continue to take.

Should all of our faces be the same?

Should we all be the same sex?

(This would certainly make for a stimulating conversation if nothing else!)

Should we all favor the same color?

Should our voices sound the same?

Should we all have the same gift?

Should we all have the same illnesses, accidents and die the same way?

My Dance is my Voice. I may or may not tell you who I am but when I Dance you will know it is me. My entire life up to this moment is my Dance. It is my expression and nothing feels as good. I am at home when I dance my Dance.  I am safe because it is truth. Even when I don’t know what to do, I’m safe as that is also truth.

No standards.

No one else can possibly tell me how to do my Dance anymore than they might tell me what I’m thinking or what to think. And no matter whose dance I do, it will always only be a copy; like speaking someone else’s words or wearing someone else’s skin. I will only be a copy. A copy without my truth or the truth of the other – a copy is not truth.

Free? Safe? Honest? Authentic? or Fear?

Love and Be Loved.

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