Friday, April 30, 2010

sister stumps and greenly spirits

"A friend is a loved one who awakens your life in order to free the wild possibilities within you... You need to change the rhythm of seeing each other and come in contact again with the ancient belonging that brought you together." John O'Donohue from "Anam Cara"

Today's dance practice was with my sister, Bev, among the trees in Lynn Canyon Park. Being a weekday morning we thought the park would be quiet and a good place to play with filming a dance together. We had to laugh when we arrived because of the numbers of people that were in the park, including this large group who walked by just as we were about to begin our dance :~) It was beautiful to see this same group later, farther on the trail, standing in a clearing in silence connecting to nature practicing, what looked like, Tai Chi...

We stopped at this particular spot on our path because the two stumps reminded Bev, of us - two sister stumps. At the time, it was a spontaneous dance improvisation, however, in retrospect as we were hiking we realized how this dance together was filled with meaningful symbolism for both of us...
Also, after we had waited for the crowd of walkers to hustle by, we thought we were alone to dance. However, after we had finished we looked into the woods to see a stump that looked like it had two eyes staring out towards us. It was a reminder of our interconnectedness with all beings, animate and inanimate, and that what we do at all times affects that which is around us. Perhaps there were no human-beings witnessing our exchange of love for one another, but the forest was filled with 'other' beings who were potentially in touch with our energy exchange?

Thank you for viewing / reading... I hope this blog may inspire you to connect with someone you care about in a meaning-filled, love-filled way,
Music by: Philip Glass
Filmed by: fallen tree branch
Visit my butoh mentor's inspiring blog here: Maureen 'Momo' Freehill

1 comment:

  1. That is one beautiful place to dance, my friend.
    I'm touched that you chose to dance there with your sister. There are three old oaks in a woods where my sister I spent time. There used to be three sisters, but one of us has died, so when the third of our old oaks died, it was bittersweet and fitting. Of course a tree never really dies, but transforms, giving life back to the community that it shelters and nurtures.
    I'm also moved that you found these others on the trail who were doing a movement practice of their own. Maybe there's no need to wait for the trail to clear before we start dancing.