Wednesday, July 9, 2008

working with obstacles: the inner enemies


This past Tuesday I taught a 90-minute Soul Motion™ class in Berkeley. I'm one of three local Soul Motion teachers-in-training Zuza asked to hold space during her time away from her weekly class, and the level of anticipation I brought was matched only by the temperature in the dance room--but more about that later.

I invited the group of 20 to join me in the center, introduced myself to the 2 new-to-me practitioners, and spoke briefly about generosity, and how we might use the practice to be open to more possibilities by being generous with our attention. I introduced the soft gaze and the echo as ways to take in and respond to more than just one close-by dancer: I invited dancers to walk evenly and with ease through the room, cultivating a wide and broad view as they passed other dancers. When called, they could walk with another, side by side, next to, around, in many directions and ways of relating physically. "Drop this partner, for now, and walk on your own. And where's your next partner? Can you be with them without looking for them, without looking directly at them, and still be aware of the entire room?"
Reflections: My voice felt strong and clear in this segment. As the group wove through the room, I struggled a little in balancing my suggestions with my attention to what was really happening in the room. I wondered (and still do) if we would have benefited by spending a little time grounding and aligning into the back body in the circle before going into group movement.

As the group weave wound down, I noticed two dancers moving together at one edge of the room, and pointed to the possibilities that the echo might provide. I spoke/named what I saw with as much SM languaging as I could: How the dancers were picking up gestures from one another, using different levels, body parts, etc, offering and responding to one another with the generosity of their attention. "You'll never be bored on the dance floor again!" I quoted Zuza. I asked another dancer to join the two already moving, then brought the music up as I introduced the passage of open movement that followed.
Reflections: I wonder, in this echo demo/instruction, how much I was speaking words I had, in advance, thought might be appropriate, rather than really being with what was. I wondered if I went on too long with the exercise/demo, how my pacing was, etc. I was really wanting the echoing to go a certain way, and my desire to have a clear expression of this point of view dominated how I spoke of the practice. My agenda! Did dancers really get what echoing was, and were they willing to try it on for size? Was I patient enough in the uncertainty to see the answer?

I did my best to allow the passage to unfold, with the intense temperatures inside the room seeming to sometimes dull, sometimes enliven the movement. I saw dancers engaging with one another in duets, mostly close physically to each other, eyes meeting eyes or eyes to the floor: where was the soft gaze, rshti, full room presence I spoke of? As time passed and the music picked up, exhaustion seemed to set in; simultaneously, it seems, and directly proportional to the heaviness I imagined filled the room, I felt anxious, a bit trapped, powerless. Did I think I was supposed to feel powerful? In control? Hah! How generous was I able to be with my own attention?

Dancers engaged with each other, sometimes forming small circles; others sat on the floor or leaned against a wall. (Witnessing, I hoped to myself; anything but dropping out!) The room asked for structure, and I saw openings/opportunities to risk: split the group to opposite walls, and direct each to move towards the center? Fade the music down to silence, then notice and name and suggest from there? I wish I had had the courage to take these risks and try these structures; I am disappointed in these unclaimed opportunities. At one point towards the end, I did notice a ring of students forming, seated (witnessing, not dropping out!) at the room's periphery, and suggested the option of witnessing in the seated or standing place at the edge, or moving into the center as impulse called. The room seemed to shift just a bit into focus.

It was also impossible not to notice one practitioner chasing another very young one giggling through the room, out the door into the hall, then back into the dance room. Was this the practice? I wasn't really sure how to respond to this distraction; the most I could do was, towards the end, move slowly around the gigglers, lightly touching the air around them, containing, commenting. What else to do with my anger? Yes, I guess I took this behavior personally: If I'd been holding space with a clearer, more open and loving presence, everyone would have been doing the practice. Yes, yes; I know...
Reflections: Acting upon opportunities to enliven the room proved extremely challenging. I learned, yet again, how risky it feels -- how much I feel out on a limb, on my own to fail or succeed, be effective or humiliated -- to interject. Old inner enemies dusted off their lances, and smiled as they drew blood with a casual, knowing air. I aspire to let go of my expectations, return to viewing all in a field of love and interest, forgive myself for being human, and begin again.

Applause came as the music ended and we gathered together in a closing circle. Interestingly, I again felt strong and clear in seeing all dancers together in the circle, as I had in the beginning. Hmm, I know it's not about how comfortable I feel at any point. And I felt a calmness and a clarity in that closing circle.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Lucid. Recent.


Hello, friends,
The images above represent design work I've completed over the last bit of time. The top and lower left pieces continue my relationship with IONS (Institute of Noetic Sciences), who support research that explores the potential and practical application of the human experience of consciousness.
Amahoro, which means "peace" in Rwandan, is one of the many small businesses in Afghanistan and Rwanda supported by bpeace.org.
I donated my efforts in service to the idea that when women (the entrepreneurs bPeace encourages) are stronger economically, they have a stronger voice for peace in their local communities and societies. Good work in war-ravaged countries!
The last postcard you see announces the amazing 5Rhythms Cycles work that Kathy Altman is offering next year, this time in Seattle. Brilliant, fierce, loving attention is given, through the body, to those places of rigidity (and reward) formed in the course of our magnificently, perfectly human lives. I cannot speak of this work too highly.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

holding space, Jan 22


i am facilitating a Soul Motion-inspired class next Tuesday evening, January 22 in a small, sweet studio space in Oakland's Rockridge neighborhood, and i would love to see your most excellent selves there to support me in this practice of presence. most of you know that i am in the Soul Motion teacher training program, an awareness-based movement ministry that offers grand opportunities for self-expression in the golden bowl of community. and for those less comfortable with such lofty context: come, dance, discover.

here come the details:

$5-$10 sliding scale. 6:00-7:30pm

NOTE: Different space than our usual Berkeley class with Zuza:

A beautiful space just a few blocks west of the Rockridge BART station, with plenty of street parking. Pristine sprung wood floors touched only by socks and bare feet.

NOTE: It's NOT "Danspace" which is right next door.

5390 Miles Avenue, Oakland, 94618

Photos: http://www.jeffreybihr.com/studio.html

Directions: http://www.jeffreybihr.com/directions.html

NOTE: Hudson Street is just across the street from the 24 freeway entrance off of Claremont - but it's not marked.

hope to be with you next Tuesday!

Monday, January 7, 2008

first class :: where do i stand?


one of the inspirations for these posts is my work with Vinn Marti, Zuza Engler and a brigade of dancer-student-teachers of Soul Motion™, a conscious movement practice i'm training in. there are many layers and points of view to this work; in this particular context, what i'll say is that the practice has helped me to see, and reveal myself, to others, in a clearer, more courageous way. and to be available to see the nature of my fellow dance-travellers as a reflection-echo of who "i" am. i am learning, in achingly small and magnificent increments, to utter -- in movement and stillness -- words like god and love. my intention in engaging in the first formal Soul Motion teacher training is to encourage in myself and in all those, seen and unseen, clarity of experience.

i taught my first Soul Motion class on New Year's morning in a wood-heated yurt at Salamander Camp in the Santa Cruz mountains, inviting the theme of Ground with a group of seven. we'd spent the previous few days cooking, cleaning, hiking and making art together, with plenty of time spent apart, too. often i feel challenged (plagued by comparing mind, where everyone loses, by the way!) interacting with "strangers," and, truth be told, nearly retreated from the role of space-holder in a movement meditation session i'd planned. when i reminded the group the evening before, one man's stark questioning -- "no, i still don't understand; just what will we be doing, exactly?" -- provoked hesitation, fear and self-doubt in me. i even the next morning announced that i'd just play the music -- with no real container, intention, commitment, i imagined with relief -- in the kitchen as we ate and cleaned for our departure later that day. somehow, though, we gathered the next morning to begin together, including those who had questioned the night before.

we warmed up with spare, vocal, tribal, prayerful music (it was so thrilling to put the playlists together); paused with an inquiry into what ground meant to each of us -- what we stood for, where we aspire to move from as the new year lay before us, with David Whyte's "Opening of Eyes" leading into my comments-- and continued for 45 more minutes.

i was nervous to speak to this group of newer and not-so-new dancers, and stated that right out; that helped *me* ground, allowing a trust of the awkward (a flightless bird?), the defeat of expectation. as the music rose and fell, i spoke words of encouragement (sometimes tagging onto a lyric or a rhythm in the music); named what i saw as i moved through the room, listening, engaging, letting be (that last one was the most challenging!). when i noticed people sitting, not really "dancing," my mind presented its usual lecture about my pointless, ineffectual existence. from somewhere else, a soft and clear sense suggested nothing mattered and everything was important.

i often lost conscious track of the theme during the session; or, rather, that theme expanded without external suggestion, to include generosity, support, and companionship with self and everything else. duets and small ensembles formed; at one point we wrapped one dear mover with the spiral of art paper we'd created the night before, as she raised her arm, triumphant: Lady Liberty welcoming a thousand pilgrims to solid ground. we ended sitting in a clump by the stove, and each, without prompting, spoke with heart about the year just passed and that just beginning. i saw eyes bright and eyes turning downward and upward; felt joy and communion and gratefulness; and imagined a soft and clear field we built together.

here's the playlist:
warmup

Beata Viscera Jan Garbarek Officium
Utferd Jan Garbarek/Agnes Buen Garnås Rosensfole
Prayer 1 Jami Sieber Hidden Sky
Looking Back Bob Holroyd Without Within
Song for the unborn (Reagákeahtes) Mari Boine Gávcci jahkejuogu (Eight Seasons)
Orange Sky Alexi Murdoch Time Without Consequence
Opening of Eyes David Whyte Close to Home

Spiritual High Moodswings Mood Food
Bittersweet Symphony The Verve Urban Hymns
Stay Human (Stereo Steambath Remix) Michael Franti & Spearhead Six Degrees 100
Jibaro Elkin & Nelson St. Moritz Vibes, Vol. II: Suite Royale
Cowboy Rumba Ned Sublette Cowboy Rumba
Tengo Sed (The Batidos Song) Batidos Six Degrees 100
Civilians Joe Henry Civilians
Will The Circle Be Unbroken The Staple Singers The Oxford American - Southern Sampler 1998
Down In The River To Pray One Accord alive one