Sway: finding sway in our bodies

I vividly remember my grandmother, Kay, in the months before she died. Her lovely, papery skin, her mischievous blue eyes and bobbing brows, her long silver hair falling about her shoulders. In the mornings, she would twist it up with hairpins, slowly, but with the muscle memory of a life-time of this gesture. People would gather at her house most evenings, after an event, talking late into the night. By the end of the day, her feet had swollen terribly, so someone would hand her a finger of gin, take her feet onto their lap, slip off the binding shoes and medical stockings, and massage her precious feet. Feet that had danced with Isadora Duncan. Or, as she would correct me, “FOR Isadora Duncan. No one danced WITH Isadora.”

Barefooted and briefly free of the pain and watery constraints, she would rise, her stance growing into the earth, her arms moving like soft ocean waves, and she would dance for us.

Even as she stretched towards 90, walking slowly, holding tightly to an offered arm, pausing to rest at each step, my grandmother’s body had sway.

To communicate with sway, we start with finding sway in our own bodies.

This week:

• Start barefoot with a stable stance, feet apart. Inside or outside on the earth, are both great.

• Imagine roots growing, twisting, deep into the earth, expanding our base

• Now, feeling a sense of “falling up,” we find space between our ribs, we float effortlessly

• Arms and spine connected in an undulating, weightless dance, as if under water

• Allow a wave move from our feet to our fingertips

• Allow the wave to toss us about, moving front and back, side to side, twisting and releasing, as if in response to the air, the sea, an emotion, a story, a song

• Allow the breath to be a partner in the dance

We start here. As we walk through our days, invite in sway, grounding while flowing up.