Yesterday's lab involved cataloging the decisions we don't make when the opportunity presents itself. This can happen on a physical, emotional, or narrative level. A dance is heading in a certain direction, and rather than following the trajectory of a moment, we turn away and make a safer choice. We choose not to leap into back space, untrusting of ourselves or our partners. We break eye contact because it's uncomfortable, or avoid an intimate moment because it's too vulnerable. The list we generated was fascinating, and I'm excited to explore some of the CI moments in which we lack courage.
At the end of the night, we tabled a really interesting question: What is an intimate dance?
Nate suggested that an intimate dance is one that focuses on senses rather than momentum. Liz felt strongly that any intimate dance has to contain vulnerability, pleasure, and listening (did I get that right, Liz?). Cyrus talked about a process of partners "attuning" with one another. We had a hard time agreeing on a concise definition, though I think most of us would have said that "we know it when we feel it." Regardless, it begs another question: Are we all talking about the same thing when we talk about an intimate dance?
Thoughts?
Also: can a trio be intimate? An ensemble? A fast dance? Does an intimate dance need to be relaxed, or can there be an element of struggle or conflict? How often are "unbalanced" dances happening, in which one partner feels a sense of intimacy and another partner doesn't? Does intimacy change the physicality of a dance, or just the mental and emotional framework we have while dancing it? Is intimacy always obvious to people witnessing the dance?
Great post, Mike.
ReplyDeleteI think I lean towards an intimate dance being one in which the dancers experience and respond to one another on a deeper level than normal. The level of intimacy required to constitute an Intimate Dance, therefore, would depend on one's sense of normal intimacy (or lack thereof). There may be a personal designation of an Intimate Dance and a cultural norm or reference point.
Intimacy within our greater culture can be simply touching. We all know plenty of people who's idea of showing affection involves just a handshake or pelvis-apart hug. That is fine. There are others who can roll around nearly naked with one another and not find it intimate. To these folks, "intimate" must mean something deeper. As one of these people, I find my body is my tool, and I am desensitized to the automatic enveloping intimacy of simply touching. Other people's touch is such a familiar sense of coexistence that it often garners an automatic response from me. To really feel Intimate to me, a dance must stretch that familiar companionship, must sink into something bigger than any of us, pull us along (either fast or slow) beyond (through?) both our rational mind and our knee-jerk physical reactions to a place of integrated 'listening' and response. Using all of what we have to offer as beings (mind, body, soul you might say) is the most intimate, to me.
I do not think that there is only one way of getting into an intimate dance, and often (in my experience) the intimacy can be more ephemeral than the dance (it doesn't always last the whole time). I agree with Nate in that the path to an intimate dance often involves sinking into our senses (underused in our society), and with Liz in that letting ourselves be vulnerable and giving and receiving pleasure can bring us there. However, at times I have also connected with people by following our momentum with great speed and recklessness--as long as I stay connected to the dance and do not become distracted by adrenaline.
Because of an Intimate Dance's inherent challenge--being more present and engaged than we normally are--it is possible to have an unevenly intimate dance, where one (or more) constituents are engaged more than another (or others). That said, I also believe that one person going to a deeper place can inspire others to join suit. I see this happening most noticeably in duets, where there is less input to deal with than, say, in trios or quartets. When an Intimate Dance happens with a group, it is AMAZING. But in a group when even one person drops out of the intimacy, it becomes exponentially more difficult for the others to keep it up, and more seems to be lost than just one person can account for. There is something magical about group dynamics, where a shared sense is magnified by the critical mass.
Mike brings up the question of whether intimacy is always obvious to people witnessing the dance. There is a group dynamic working in this situation not unlike that of trios and quartets, but perhaps less equal than when all constituents are dancing. When some are observing, more influence is conferred on those dancing. The observers are still part of the dance, but less so. Their energy tends to mirror the energy of the dancers rather than lead it (unless they throw in comments or other palpable interaction). If the dancers are open to the observer(s) and/or the world at large, then those watching will likely feel any Intimacy the dancers experience. If the dancers are 'closed off' to the observers (i.e., are focused entirely on themselves) then even though the observers might be able to rationally detect that the dancers are having an Intimate Dance, they will likely not be as personally engaged or empathetic with it.
Wow, Lauren! I'm so excited that you're participating from afar in the dialogue. There are so many rich ideas in what you've written.
ReplyDeleteI liked the reference to intimacy sometimes being accompanied by dancers "sinking into a moment bigger than any of us." Both in music and in dance, I'm really intrigued by moments of collective surrender, in which we're able to let go of expectation and ego, becoming a vessel for creativity to move through. In music, I find myself able to play beyond my normal physical, mental, and emotional ability when I find this state. In dance, it's similar - my body feels as if it's able to do things that I couldn't consciously do in a "normal" dance. At times, I can access these states solo, but I experience a profound sense of connection and intimacy when I experience these states with other people. These compositions are powerful spiritual experiences for me as well.
Does anyone have a personal practice for finding more intimacy and connection in dances? A mindset, warm-up, or set of rules that help you get there more frequently?
I'm just stumbling on this conversation today, 18 months later...
ReplyDeleteHere's my 2 cents.
Some recent intimate dances I've experienced all had a sense of vast mysteriousness to them. Whether slow or fast the information I was being presented with was beyond my normal experience and required me to meet it from a place where the ego is of no use. At last Sunday's jam I had a wild and extremely sophisticated dance with someone I've rarely danced with. It demanded beyond complete attention and entered that quicksilver flow state we long for.
And then there are the slow moving, delicious, mind-blowing, physical conversations between dancers. Without the fear factor and quick problem-solving momentum provides, I/we are left with many slippery slopes of bodies and psyches exploring this wilderness together. Again, I think a certain level of skill and/or physical-imaginal intelligence will expand the dance beyond an intimate pseudo-sexual encounter towards that mystery of who, what am I/we now? What ARE we doing? Where my bodymind is aware that its never been here before, and it could choose to become lost or choose to keep pretending it knows what to do. I'm seek these moments of original experience.
Admittedly, I am a sexual being and a happily married man, and these intimate dances can lead me close to those places where sexual energy wants to turn into sexual action, but I chose to use my creative skills to interrupt, distract or re-create other possible ways of being with another, ways to replace sex with mystery, to "make the moment bigger than us" as Mike says.
In readings about "play" I've done there is mention of the need to keep "upping the ante" (as in poker) for the play to stay alive. So, I find myself trying to find ways to do this in the dancing, and hope my partner(s) will do the same, by making offers that keep me guessing, wondering and responding in kind. Trusting we will accept each others' offers without knowing what they mean.
Mike, I use imitation of the other, stillness and patience to nurture the connection. Yet, I don't think everyone wants all their dances to be intimate dances... timeliness.