Poetic Revelations: Listen, Stay, Connect
Embodied Communication
“In lieu of flowers,
I would wish for you to flower.
I would wish for you to blossom, to open, to be beautiful.”
~Shawna Lemay
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Because Human-ing is harder than Adulting. This is a weekly publication for heart-centered warriors, swimming through this thing called Life.
Selected Readings and Sounds:
Pearl, John Lee Clark
In Blackwater Woods, Mary Oliver
I Confess, Alison Luterman
Dear Embodied Hearts and Dancing Souls,
Thank you for your patience & kindness with my absence the last two weeks. Life is a crazy crazy ride. Never would I have imagined taking this long stretch of a break in the middle of my life. The poems reflect an arc—reunion, letting go, and growing into a wiser self. A few quick updates:
My presentation at the Viva Center was a wonderful experience. I got a chance to weave in neuroscience about play.
I co-created and -led a sequence that brought InterPlay to bodies with Parkinson’s Disease. Well received and a filling experience.
Then I flew…I took myself out of the day-to-day muckety muck and joined the annual InterPlay gathering in Wisconsin.
I am finishing my first book proposal for my book, You Move for Your Own Joy: The Promise in Your Physicality!
The Embodied In-between. My favorite conversation during the InterPlay gathering I attended was around how spoiled we are in how we communicate with one another, compared to others “out there”. What’s the difference? When you climb into your body, you listen to how a person speaks just as much as what they say. You pause before you speak. Here, I’m listening to the physical sensations and feelings rising up in my body and for words that reflect what I’m sensing. We listen body-to-body to each other’s whole presence.
It’s not without prickles and brambles; every communication is a dance in real-time. Here, people were so attuned to our exchanges that they took time, in between our play and conversations, to circle back and make sure we didn’t need to address any lingering residue. It’s light, not heavy, and felt like relational tending. Here we know: our feelings are ours; another’s experience is theirs. How cool is that?
Microcosm and MAGAcosm. What strikes me is how alive and intentional our moments of intersection feel. Whether small or large intersections, there’s almost no small talk and communication is direct. Not because we’re unfriendly but because casual filler has no place here. Instead people say what they mean, mean what they say, and speak from a rooted place where no one feels the need to people please, make false connection, or wear a mask.
I see this firsthand when collaborating with other leaders, how we stay with differences and articulate preferences, impacts, and trade-offs. At the retreat, using embodied sound, movement and speech we were able to explore the impact of living within extraction economies and our role in creating a new economy with more equity. In the workshop for people with Parkinson’s Disease, peopled noticed that communicating with sound and movement about their Parkinson’s experience was more honest than using words. They could express themselves —and be heard—more fully. Don’t we need more of this?
It makes me wonder what might change in our society, workplaces, and at home if we could speak—both verbally and nonverbally, from this still, present center?
We are at a point in our microcosm where we need more embodied communication, especially to humanely deprogram MAGA behavior. This article by Flint Del Sol demonstrates this describing a conversation he had deep in MAGA territory. He manages to stay in this ineffable neutrality, keeping the conversation at the edges of his personal boundaries and knowing when to walk. It’s magnificent how he availed himself of opportunity in the moment, despite the words he was hearing. Actions in our unique microcosms make up the macrocosm.
It seems to me that this is the work: finding our neutral center. Climbing into our bodies makes this easier.
Take a moment to view this video that gives a psychological take on MAGA individuals. It discusses identity fusion, why facts don’t matter yet destruction does. While it remains incredible that so many minds are swayed, she does point to loneliness, another American epidemic, as a precursor and economics as another.
Belonging. Just before I left, I guided groups to embodied presence in three different communities. Each time, I saw how our bodies already know how to belong to each other.
I witnessed how our bodies already know how we belong to each other.
I ran off to Wisconsin because I needed a break. From earning a livelihood, creating a new career path, being a partner in my marriage, and even writing. I needed to fill up my tank.
I experienced two full circle moments: reuniting with my first love whom I hadn’t seen for 27 years (yipes!) and attending my second InterPlay retreat since my first one seven years ago, before becoming a leader. As I got off the plane, I knew what I wanted most: to LAUGH. My jaunty sense of humor was one of many things this relationship had shaped and I still remembered my belly laughter from the last InterPlay retreat.
There is not room here to share both full circle moments, but I can tell you: this trip filled my cup. Oh these InterPlay peeps truly get my vibe. I laughed deeply, rejoiced in mini-reunions, created more fluidly, and noticed where I want to grow. My other reunion ended on a tender note. At middle age, I too am tending ruptured relationships. Being embodied made this meet up way less awkward and more joyous. A wise milepost in seeing my own road. Lots of feels. The retreat was the perfect way to integrate them (love, loss, grief, gratitude, the gaze of truth, wholeness).
Knowing how to fill my cup, and choosing to do it, makes me feel like I belong to my life.
As I age, more and more outer surety gets ripped away. (Isn’t this the truth). I am becoming more grateful for the interstitial moments. I notice, that as a young woman, I gave the root of my heart away. In middle-age, I know it’s mine to take back. Like tucking a flower in my silvery hair, I tuck this root back into my own chest.
My chest glows golden. To your exquisite unfolding. Stay #heartwoke!
Monisha
When we belong to ourselves, we move freely. ~ Monisha Mittal
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