I went to 5 Rhythms Dance Sunday morning, a session called “Sweat Your Prayers” — which is about an hour and a half long, and includes more inspirational and introspective music, and generally is pretty crowded.
As I began to dance, I found myself in an interesting internal conversation. On one hand, I found myself feeling a bit more buoyant than usual, but on the other, a bit sad, as well.
As I blogged about on my WRT2 blog, I have been exploring growing a bit smaller to deal with some medical issues that have come up. I still believe that weight loss as a goal is unhelpful and in most cases, unsustainable, but I’m approaching my medical challenges with an open mind and trying to apply all that I’ve come to understand about HAES, intuitive eating, good self-care, mindfulness and CBT to this endeavor. I have been both larger and smaller than I am now, and I know that I have been beautiful, brave and bold at that larger size. If anything, I tend to feel less secure as I grow smaller.
As I was dancing, I was noticing that tentativeness about being slightly smaller, and realized I didn’t want to feel like I was rejecting or renouncing some larger version of my self. I wanted to honor that on this same dance floor, in a slightly larger body, I had danced my pants off. So, even though I was aware that when dancing, I felt a little more lift, this wasn’t to say there was anything wrong with how I danced before. And the idea popped into my head of imagining me dancing with that larger self. As I came across this thought, I smiled. I wasn’t recoiling from that slightly larger me, glad to be rid of her. Instead, I was inviting her to dance along with me. At first, to be my partner. And this felt delightful. Of course, I would want to dance with that girl, she’s adorable and bouncy and open and warm and fun! I realized that I might dance a bit differently with her than I would just on my own, that is, I might be a bit more grounded. And I wondered, would the slightly heavier me be envious of the slightly less heavy me, if I could currently jump a bit higher and twirl a bit faster? I assumed the heavier me would be, but maybe not. Maybe her attitude would be, “go for it! Have fun! Do it!” I tried doing “the bump” with that larger me, soft hip hitting slightly less soft hip, and that was fun. And I also found myself inviting the larger me to dance next to me, so we could dance with others.
And then it hit me — the other people in the room may either be having or have already had some version of this experience of dancing with some part of themselves that they don’t currently occupy. Whether dancing with a younger self, a more or less vital self, a sadder self or a happier self, I was able to imagine that the room was filled with invisible dance partners, all invited to join in the dance. I felt much less alone (and weird) once I realized this.
As the class went on, I observed some other things. While I was able to leap higher and twirl around a bit more easily, I got tired faster, and noticed I needed to take more breaks. I didn’t have my usual level of endurance. I am not used to going to a morning class, and I didn’t have enough to eat beforehand (I don’t like to have a full stomach before I exercise, and I didn’t have time to eat early enough in the day). So, the slightly larger me, who was eating as much as she needed throughout the day and then going to class at night, had more stamina than the slightly smaller me who was mindfully consuming a bit less food. In the end, I was envious of the endurance of the slightly larger me.
This is all useful information. It occurred to me that in order to enjoy dancing at the pace and intensity I like to, I need to eat more beforehand. And conversation between the slightly larger and slightly smaller versions of me is entirely possible. This isn’t “before” and “after” — this is about allowing all of my selves to join me in the present.
Angry Gray Rainbows 