Category Archives: moving, breathing, feeling

Dec20

a deadline & an elevator

Posted on by

On December 24,  the price goes up for my class Breaking into Blossom: Moving into an Improvisational Life.  Right now the price for this 5-week class is $75.  On December 24, it goes up to $100.

I think that this is a wonderful gift to give someone you love – a terrific way to launch 2012.

I am excited about this class because it is where I am pulling together pretty much everything I have learned about embodiment and improvisation and how those two things can change the way you go about your daily life.

What I have observed is that for many of us there is a big commute between what we consider creative and “life.”  My belief is that everything can be lived creatively.  This class is intended to help you close the gap; to weave improvisation into the fabric of the ways you move, eat, work, play.

You don’t have to be an artist to enjoy this class.  That being said, it will spark the artist in you.  Twice a week for five weeks, I will be using writing, movement, brilliant guest posts, and specific strategies to help you close the gap and find a deeper creative engagement.

By the by, this class is not about horses.  However, if you are a rider, it will change how you approach that too.

If you have questions, shoot me a comment and I will answer.

SHARE & EMAIL
Dec20

the heart of the matter

Posted on by

Mary Muncil wrote a lovely post today that spoke about the holidays and the “big day phenomenon,” or the ways that the holidays can trigger high hopes and disappointment. She urges us to have a welcoming heart, no matter how things show up.

For years I would weep at Christmas.  I had a bad case of the Big Day thing.  I missed my father, who passed in 1993.  I missed my childhood. I missed Minnesota, which in fact I had left as soon as I could (no ocean).  In the process of all that weeping, I also missed what was there.

I still have twinges, but they are milder, and there is more joy, more appreciation.  I still miss my father, but I can feel him here in a deeper way now.  I can feel myself more deeply as well.

One thing that has helped me is letting go of some of the rigidity around the Christmas rituals:  The Formulaic Christmas.  How things should look and feel.  Where they go.  When they happen.  Not that there aren’t rituals, they just don’t have the big urgent charge around them that they used to.  My Christmases now have a more improvisatory swing to them, which helps me to connect to the heart of the matter.

ps.  the price for Breaking into Blossom goes up on Friday. $75 until then.

 

 

 

Dec18

riding, dancing

Posted on by

Photo:  Claire Glover;  Brandi Rivera riding Amadeo

Riding is the hardest thing that I do.  Physically.  Mentally.  Spiritually.

I am a dancer.  Riding is harder.  The intricacy, the communication, the balance, the nuance, the subtlety required in the riding arena are beyond anything I have experienced in a dance studio.  Martha Graham said that it takes ten years to make a dancer.  One of my first trainers, Beach Bennett, said that it takes at least two lifetimes to become a rider. She is right.

I have had to accept that despite my physical skills, my training and my understanding, I am going to need that second lifetime to become all that I want as a rider.  It is humbling. I welcome it.

I wrote yesterday about touching horses, and the way that brings me to my knees.  How I love it.  Riding is that way too.  Sitting in the saddle (my zafu) and finding the first rhythmic harmonics with my horse’s walk is like breathing. Or like stepping into the water, readying for a swim.  Being challenged to seek harmony, softness, clarity and balance throughout a riding lesson is like sitting with a tough Zen master.  Or like my yoga classes with Patricia Walden.  No tuning out, not ever, not for a moment.

The horse, you see, deserves nothing less than my very best.

Rigor and ecstasy.  Could there be anything better?

Dec17

touching horses

Posted on by

Today as I was brushing out the second tail of the day, after soaking Capprichio’s abscessed foot, and grooming Amadeo, I suddenly looked up and wondered, why do I love this?  Why do I love touching horses?  I was holding the tip of Deo’s tail, and looking at his very fuzzy hamstrings with their winter wisps of long hair.  Why do I love this?  Why is it that the acts of touching, massaging, brushing, picking out feet, stroking the face never get old.  Why is it that a day without those movements is not complete?

I honestly do not know.

My birth chart has absolutely no earth in it.  I am all air, fire and water.  Maybe the deep groundedness of the horses gives a balance to my energetic constitution.  Or I just love them in this deep helpless way.  They take my breath away.  They are happy to see me.  They express that in many ways.  They nuzzle me, they lay their noses on my cheek and ask me to stand there and breathe.  They appreciate my touching.  There is something in the ritual, the connection, the meditative quality of those movements and those moments spent together that soothes me to the bone.  To the soul.

As I said, though, I really don’t know.

(Asked and answered . . . )

ps.  I re-enabled comments on the blog.  My thought of the moment is why cut off conversation anywhere?  (Thank you Nicole),