Monthly Archives: January 2013

inside of me, inside of you

I am in Savannah, GA taking a workshop with cowboy-Aikido master, Mark Rashid.  I have written about him before, and being able to ride with him and experience his work firsthand is a dream come true.

Today I rode a horse named Sam who had, as Mark said, “an industrial strength brace” that showed up in the way he hit the bits by throwing his head.  Sam would hit the bits so hard that he would back himself up – like a wave hitting a sea wall.  He could not soften.  With me on his back, Mark again and again corrected him, backing him up all the way across the big paddock where we were riding.  That sounds harsh and punitive.  It wasn’t.  What was interesting was with all that backing, I could clearly feel when the horse “homogenized”  in other words, stopped feeling like four separate, blocky quadrants and suddenly came together in a smooth flow.

When Mark showed me what he was doing with the reins, by having me be the horse and brace my hands and arms, he softened my resistance with something that felt like to me warm water moving up the reins.  He explained that he was sending intention, and “going underneath,” something that comes from his practice of Aikido. His point is that the fix is not mechanical, but happens by finding the connection between the inside of the rider to the inside of the horse. He says that if you aren’t connected to yourself, there is no way that you can connect to the horse.

Then he had me take the reins and instead of meeting the horse’s resistance with my own resistance, just picture my hands moving toward the horse’s mouth.  Doing that dissolved the brace for both me and the horse, and gave me a sensation that I have never experienced before.  Which for a smart somatic person was pretty exciting and humbling. He also cataloged my own stiffness without hardly looking at me in about five seconds.  Like I said, humbling.

For those of you who have been following the Deo Diaries, you can imagine how excited I am to go home and try all of this with him!

 

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the audience

“Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia.”

                                                                                                                                        Kurt Vonnegut


I think it is the same with any performance.  Dancing to the whole house feels diluted and a little vague.  Dancing to this one, then this one, then this one feels intimate and engaged.

 

dance!

The day before the inauguration we visited the National Museum of the American Indian, which had a celebration of music dance and story.  We watched Mexican folkloric dancers, Alaskan Indian dancers and the extraordinary KanKouran West African Dance Company.  At one point a drummer stepped forward with a talking drum and began a chant with the overflow audience.  “USA!,” he drummed, and we chanted back “Barack Obama!” in the perfect language of music and movement.

on the road

Backstage the day before the ceremony.

On Thursday, Pam and I traveled to Washington DC for the second inauguration of President Barack Obama.  At the last moment, I got a call that I had tickets.  Our friends Annie and Stan secured a place for us to stay with family, so we decided to take the leap, despite FOC (fear of crowds) and LMU (last minute uncertainties), because when we woke up on Thursday, we felt like this (our grand daughter Laila Rose):

But we managed to extricate ourselves from sleep and trepidation and set out, despite AWTDSAT (also wanting to do stuff at home).  We took the train from New York, which was a lovely way to travel, city center to city center.

The next day, we made our way to the basement of the Dirkson Office building to pick up our tickets and then wandered around among the growing crowds to suss out where we would be entering.  This was one of the first things that we saw, which little did we know, would become a defining feature and theme of our Inaugural experience.

Here’s why:

We viewed the entire ceremony on the barely visible jumbotron just beyond the potties.  The situation was enhanced by kids climbing on top of the potties, obscuring our view completely.  Fortunately some young men persuaded them to dismount by threatening to tip over the potties.  The only other thing was the crazy man in the tree who brayed at us about god and abortion and assault weapons throughout the entire day (that is from 7 am to 1pm).  Apparently, the police were unable to get him down without hurting themselves, us or him.

And then it began. I was reminded why we were there, because the words and the joy and the song and the brilliance of the day came together – a perfect confluence.  For us as gay women, the Presidents mention of our civil and human rights, the inclusion of Stonewall with Selma and of gay poet Richard Blanco were balm for the heart.  We could not hear his reading, but caught it later that evening on television.  His words are the summation of that perfection – a day savored, a day shared.