Author Archives: Paula Josa-Jones

bringing out the book


The publication date for my book, Our Horses, Ourselves: Discovering the Common Body, is approaching (mid-September).  The final scramble of editing is finished, and within a few weeks, it will be in the hands of the printer.

This project has been an amazing, daunting, joyful, frustrating journey of over 10 years.  Actually though, this book pulls from the last forty years of living in a moving human body,  and the past twenty years of dropping deep, then deeper still into the world of horses. The horses hold the two ends of my life – the raw childhood horse love and the ripened adult passion.

Are you emptied out when you finish a book like this?  Not really.  Like making dances, there is always that thing that wakes you up in the middle of the night – a movement that must be danced or another way of saying something about touching horses, learning to be a mindful being in the blessing of their presence.

This next stage -getting the word out, scheduling of readings, workshops – feels overwhelming.  I have done this as the artistic director of a dance company for many, many years.  For whatever reason, I do not feel that  has prepared me.  Maybe it has to do with the ephemeral nature of dance and dancing.  A book is something that can be held, it is an object.  Scary, that, and exciting too.

You can (please) order my book HERE.








dearly beloved


I am on Martha’s Vineyard working and playing with my autistic godson Jacob, who will celebrate his sixteenth birthday this month.  I have known Jacob all of his life.  In the first year of that life, when he was not crawling, I had the profound gift of working with Bonnie Bainbridge Cohen, who taught us ways of encouraging developmental patterns that were absent or fragmentary.  And so began a journey of learning and transformation for all of us who love Jacob.

I have not seen him since last September.  Jacob is non-verbal, and I felt (finally) that efforting for language was exactly wrong, and the I needed to go where he is, by communicating with him telepathically.  Dropping into that consciousness, it was as if a flower that had been tightly budded opened fully and there he was! When I asked him what he needed, it was for us to listen carefully, to ask with our hearts and minds, and to let go of needing the words.  Some of this was in images, some in short, clear phrases.

On the morning of the first day there was a lot of grabbing and pulling. I asked him to “use his mind” to tell me what he wanted. Over the next couple hours, things began shifting. It is clear that the habitual physical patterns – the muscle memory – are very deeply set – they anchor him in a way, and obstruct accessing new information or ways of being. It’s almost like when I first come out he is frantic to get whatever it is that he feels he needs. Or lay down the behavioral patterning like a grid for our interaction.

In the afternoon of this same day, there was a profound shift – lovely alternations of separation and connection. Dancing – literally – with balances, turns, shifts of direction, coming together, going apart. It is as if we sent in a psychic order and Jacob delivered! As we danced in the afternoon, his gaze shifted from being downwardly focused  to opening out and coming to rest at eye level. A clear shift in awareness and presence. Full palm contact holding hands – a first. At one point when I was tying his shoe, he did this series of pats with his open hand – very gentle – all the way down my spine from upper back to hips!

As the week has gone on, our play has expanded, his tolerance has increased, as his patience, gentleness and understanding.  I am using words, but I am also checking in with him non-verbally, letting him show me what might be next.

It is the first time n my long experience of him that Jacob has fully allowed touch. The absence of touch, his reactivity to being touched has been the most painful and frightening part of our relationship.  So this is like sixteen years of Christmases and birthdays.  Sharing contact with him, giving weight, taking his weight, holding hands, cradling arms, stroking his back – all held within the rhythms of walking together fills me with overwhelming appreciation.

Thank you thank you thank you.