~labyrinth walk~

in honor of Mary Magdalene's annual Feast Day (July 22), a group of women came together to walk a labyrinth.

walking a labyrinth is an ancient practice, a moving meditation. one walks upon the pathway in their own timing. the thoughts that come may illustrate what is in the way in life: obstacles, modes of thinking, patterns that could be contributing to unsatisfactory outcomes. this walk towards the center is a time to witness & notice what arises from within. when the center is finally reached, it is a moment to surrender & receive from that silent space, for however long that would be. walking from the center outward, the purpose is to move that filled up feeling into life beyond the labyrinth.

we filed along the side, sauntering one by one from the southern point of the circular spiraling pattern, 11 layers deep. the wind was strong this night & had blown the candles out that were scattered across the field to illuminate the curves in the path. it was difficult to see. i had a sudden thought to grab the lighter in my purse. i had bought it on a whim in a gas station on a road trip simply because it had a ferocious tiger on it i was delighted this special night was the inaugural use of the tiger lighter!

when it was my turn to begin the walk, i knew it was my job to relight the candles on the path. i bent down, turned the glass upside down. gusts & drafts bent the flame over my thumb numerous times. the button to ignite was hard to push down with one lone finger. the shape of the lighter proved to be aesthetic & inefficient for profuse use, like lighting 50 candles on a windy night. the wicks would catch the fire, often flickering for seconds before being blown out again. still, i walked & crouched to each candle that appeared on my path.

as i walked, i noticed how my body was tracing along. i began to feel like i might have missed a turn and was heading back out, away from center. with my focus of lighting candles, burning my thumb & trying to push the button down, i was worried i went the wrong way. a part of me wanted to jump the black brick outlines & go to the center, because i probably skipped a turn and was on my way out. i did not want to miss the center! i told myself if i did actually somehow miss the center and found myself on the line for the finish, i would turn around and go straight to the middle.

and through this odd anxiety i still went about the work of lighting candles. a woman closeby had whispered in my direction: "they keep going out!".

this summed it all up. that moment. when people invalidate an act of inspiration. when the elements seem to conspire to have things their way. when it seems like nothing at all is supporting that small voice that told me to light those candles. after hearing what she said, i looked across where i had walked to survey the scene. there were glints of yellow light warming the inky blue cast of sky, small glows dancing. i was facing myself, seeing my journey inside. what i decided was happening was:

facing my obstacle of feeling/seeing lack of support.

to use that as an excuse to give up.

facing feeling foolish for following an inner calling that seems to derive no material success.

that i crave the direct way of getting somewhere, not the circular way.

especially when i see where to go but the path seems to lead away from it.

lack of trust.

clarity.

sigh.

i felt even if the effort of lighting every candle resulted in just a few remaining lit, it was worth it. if it's lighting up white wax votives or lighting up people with what i share, it may be that not all stay lit, not all carry the flame. but with that effort & contact, some fires remained. the labyrinth showed me that. and those little lights helped the people who came after me, enhanced the mood, the sacredness. the message was obvious, and i felt it deeply.

i decided to cease lighting the candles until i reached the center. i also dropped the absurd anxiousness of not getting to the center. there just isn't a wrong way to do this!

i had gone barefoot. the surface was sharp gravely bits that were certainly keeping my awareness honed (i have feet! i have feet! i really feel them!). it felt good to imagine all of this stuff i just discovered leaking out of my feet into the gravel & the dirt beneath. so fucking grateful.

and without notice, i was at the center. i did a mini jump up & down as not to disturb the others on their trip. i sat down in front of the group of candles & lit them. i put my hands on the ground & felt that moment. it felt like nothing. it felt like tingles. inner movements. quiet. i loved how the gravel memorized my hand prints. i departed with so much joy. i wanted to skip & dance my way out, but with others around, i felt it would be too distracting for me to express fully. so the smallest joyful thing i did was to, at a turn, instead of walking in the direction of the turn, i counter-turned. this made me feel like i was dancing, a little counter spin at each point. it felt so heightening to do this!

at the end, the facilitator greeted each person. when i came to the exit, she hugged me & said "thank you for lighting those candles". i smiled.

thank you Mary for kindling me,

for miracles when i thought none were left

for your outpouring of love

and teaching me how to do the same

love, love, love

flowers for Mary

Madelines for Mary

flowing, focusing, eclipse hit #3

i am made to do marvelous things

i experience magic everydayi am transforming energy in positive directions

i create exhilarating experiences for myself

i attract wonderful opportunities

i swim through life gracefully with style & ineffable beauty

i feel free

i am Rightly Guided

i know what steps to take

i trust

i use my body to create beauty

i use my body to promote peace

i use my body to love & bring joy

i Exalt!

i am writing the poetic messages to the world

that i have always wanted to write

i am a dancer

i am a healer

i love everyone

i am fascinated & inspired by all the life around me

i heal the earth with my awareness of her

i am Aware

i am Complete

i am Enlightened

I Am

i feel supported

i feel appreciated

i feel thankful

i am grateful for freedom

i am restored in beauty

i am restored in nature

i live to love

i love to live

i am honored to be a part of creation

i always have access

access to knowledge

access to resources

access to God

access to help

access to funds

access to ideas

access to education

access to information

access to other realms

access to finding the best solution

access granted

i am Peace

i am Powerful

i naturally lead

i naturally know

i naturally live

i naturally give

i naturally receive

i naturally create what is helpful

i nurture

i care

i shape & make the future with both hands

and with a loving heart

i drench my life in love, in color, in optimism, in rightly guided actions

i am endless

i am hopeful

i am inevitable

*

//pattern breaking|\

in ReWire Solo Body Work,

we were acquainted with the black marley floor

which doubled as a minefield, attempting to truly

embody freestyle by freeing our bodies from

habitual movement by way of chaos:

chaos of intention:

there is a thought of movement. perform the movement but stop it before it completes. do this at a steady pace.

i notice something in the brain that freezes. feels stuck. a certain

stiffness & a wanting to rebel against non-flow unable to discharge

energy into the patterns the body is used to feels frustrating. and also,

creative.

chaos of idea:

finish a movement but make the next unlikely, an action unrelated to the one that precedes it.

we look like malfunctioning machinery. yet there is a distinct grace,

an intelligence i see moving through staccato limbs & spontaneous

weight shifts. it feels like we are doing something important, together.

communicating a language that has truth in it, with daring boldness

to attempt to speak it.

the perfect solo: a 45 second free dance as you are observed by another who will choose 3 patterns that emerge from your solo. you are informed of the three patterns and instantly you must perform another 45 second dance without any of those 3 motions.

during this work, someone said: "i can't move. i can't move!"

a tight bind the mind could not escape so quickly, could not resort

to the maneuvers it was used to that she didn't even know she had.

a freedom moment.

my 3: movement initiated from shoulders. downward gaze. limbs making right angles.

stunned to hear the feedback as these pattern motions were not in my awareness. i was delighted to hear of them. i also wondered how to move without bending my legs at right angles.

feeling the lights on my face feeling neck bent upward. difficulty originating movement from a place other than my shoulders/upper chest. deliberate choices. delving into straighter or more curved limbs. playing with planes with momentum to continuously transit & transition, even when i decided to slow down.

there is a vocabulary, a composition which the improvisation lays upon, layers

of language in endless synthesis & tempo, each stroke bearing an energetic signature

underneath, unique with the taste of the one who moves, their mark undeniably

witnessed in the form of choices; it can be none other than She that moves that

way she moves. i want to freestyle write the way i freestyle dance:

creating fresh flow, a new pathway to travel electrically ~

my most favorite thing: to put side by side words unlikely

creates momentum! a velocity of feeling that may jolt

spine or eject giggle!

recently, words have been held back, diverted or

absent as the focus of present moments consumes

contemplative creative combinations of consonants & vowels,

the chronicling of occurrences/extract exalt of lived moments

left undone.

i'm feeling the void.

i'm seeing the white of lined pages simply lined, unfilled in.

the white COMPOSE box blank more than black angles & curves

of letters filling potent space with the intensity of how i experience living.

there are words spoken & words unspoken; taking the role as deliverer of perspective

in personal exchanges with a wisdom aware of when to sit a bit in the mystery,

to let silence speak long pauses.

the sun is, again, the center of things.

i moved so slowly this week, an aching heavy tired to endure with bright days

bearing down, thrusting thermometers to triple digits. my body unwilling to move

faster than the speed of something swallowed. and suddenly energized as the blaze

moves down to invite nights of mild air to breathe & soothing breezes upon skin.

the journey of waking up & moving through the day is a tumult of sensations:

feeling good but tired, hot but not complaining, yoga, dance & ensemble improv

alongside laying awake unmoving, napping in the noon. sweating through clothes

and eating cold coconut ice cream, healing work & mindless random enjoyment.

everyday is a tension of opposites that seem to pull upon me as i negotiate the balance

between them, focused more on the field they create in the center space, feeling

held fast by the gravity of their interplay.

i have been learning to ignite the fire inside,

focused in the navel.

some days it feels so difficult.

but people are in need. my life needs me.

it's a lot like that feeling of needing to find something

quickly in a messy room with piles, the frantic digging

searching. this is me inside me seeking to find the flame.

i find two sticks instead & rub them together. must make

the energy, generate it. friction heat, to sparks, to burst

of light.

it has been working.

such a push through these

thick times of embers.

i feel the assurance of anchors, a root down

into a confidence place, success manifest through

right action in right timing

like i'm finally learning

how to live,

a moving work of art,

a real dancer.

(thank you to Leslie Scates & Nina Martin for Ensemble Thinking/ReWire Solo Body Work)

https://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=114221108666769

dilate

mother's day dance today.

dropping into dance was thunder, rain sounds. a singing poem
about Mother, Shakti, giver, holder, source, beyond the beyond.

i felt the heave of how intensely undernourished i have felt for years, fast forwarding to the times of feeling like i was taking care of the household, being so tough, going without, waiting for attention, waiting for feeling good, doing things to earn love, feeling not good enough, unimportant, pushing hard, everything difficult & unimproved for so long

i hated pink
i hated hair products
i hated double standards
i hated menstruating
i hated my skin
i hated being a girl
i hated my mother

i was on the floor remembering these things, crawling with another dancer, feeling tears close. Samadhi dances up to me, smiling. i try to hold back the buildup i sense inside, to be strong & act as if i don't need anything. i think to myself "i hate this dance, i want to leave". but it is not the dance i hate. it's feeling pain & not knowing what to do with it. feeling like it will kill me. she bends down to embrace me & it all comes out. high pitched strained sounds that almost broke my heart to hear, oozing from nose & crying eyes, just like a baby. i felt how happy she was, her calming hands on my back & nurture noises. the only way through these emotions was to feel them. after awhile, she fetches tissue for me to clean up & i decide to get up & tone with the music, to let whatever is rising & shaking me & taking over my faculties to be dissolved with acknowledgement & movement.

i had an eye contact dance. we moved other body parts but were engaged in a fixed gaze, my vision focused on her right eye. i felt a feeling emerge, a feeling of wanting her to have everything, the feeling pouring from the heart. wanting her to be taken care of & have nothing lacking. i imagined this must be what a mother can feel - a deep desire to give everything to their child, their loved one. the depth of it was astonishing, an ache with sweetness. it comes from so deep within, and it is total.

during the dance 2 guys were sitting on the floor talking to one another; one of the biggest features of the dance is that it is NON VERBAL. it was comical that they were sitting & chatting as if music wasn't blaring & bodies weren't flailing about in front of them. i went up to one & covered his mouth mid sentence. the other one said "you're mean", and then i covered his mouth, smiling, feeling: "this must be what it's like to regulate, be boss mama!". i went behind them & pet their hair & played with their energies, each of my hands on each of their backs, working with the brow chakra, the places along the spine, base of the skull. grounding & soothing. the music became spare & sweet, my signal to go to the floor once more.

women are amazing creatures. how they feel, how they give, what they undergo, if they are a mother or not. sharing their core & giving all they are, letting go after such intense fusion with another, to endure the loss with grace. that their body can experience so much so deeply, their bodies that open to let life pass through, their hearts that open to let love through. i am in awe.

we closed the dance by saying our birth names & the names of our mothers. more tears.

Stephanie Shinta Hagakore, daughter of Elizabeth Laura Ciriello

it felt almost like the beginning of a eulogy,
each of us in succession naming our mothers
and the names they gave to us,
the thrust of a birth line, the push
from one generation into the next.
life keeps going, going, going
ceaseless movement & mystery,
and somehow, love is the point.

passion strokes

i let the breezes pass
through to dry the paint.

fervor, passion strokes.
i was so fearful of letting
myself dream, form a fantasy,
allow myself to say"what if?"
and see it. paint it.
i resisted, and the painting said
"if not here, where?"

when the other painters saw my work:
"juicy wild abandon!"
"water mystery of male & female, opposites working together"
"when i see you painting, i feel turned on! adventure!"
"i feel loved"

i feel myself carried away from familiar
floating on a downstream of rapid
unknown filling the horizon
change, change, change
leaving, arriving
is all we seem to do.

the top quarter of the painting

the pregnant oracle

i paint with words, more beautiful
than what i make with actual paint.
i vibrate the sounds within, wield
pictures with sounds, syllables

.............................................

holding the moment, eyes
roll back under lids, feeling
deeply into the silence.
Bliss sings my heart.

realize where i am
amongst the beauty,
reverberations of serenity
echoing from the corners
back through me and sent
out again, amplified as
the red glow of my dress
is vivacious against the
green of the plants in the
room that sit like an audience
for me; i feel their attention.

i sense the life under my skin,
warm energy brightening the
elements this body is composed
of. "i have life for you!" it says,
without words, with full feeling.

this womb that has wept, held
strong, built, been denied, longed,
danced; she sings for her equal,
wanting to merge, wanting ecstasy
of uniting. the remembrance of Eden
buried in the nucleus, extraordinary
energy, powerful & difficult.

your breath on my neck reminds me
of everything i want, awakening
rapture fire, activating chemistry
as ancient as alchemy, lighting up
my eyes, lining up my stars
on the edge of a new destiny, an
unexpected direction, a myriad of
choices.

choosing it

not choosing it

i am told i am limitless and everyday is
feeling the boundaries, finding them, breaking
them, choosing how to proceed,

blood that pulses whispering
promises of dreams forming to
be touched, tasted, cultivated
here is the body, now move with
this color, gently. easily create in
absolute trust as source comes
through, Namelessly.

flooding with hope, with confusion.
sleep. steep. Silence will answer.
every time, in every age. it always has.

but nothing is silent here on earth,
not even the forest at night or outer
space. all that lives, sounds.
then what is silence?

feed. love. create.

transforming the composition of me
to liquid light beaming from eyes, lips
that can light a century, a flame that
burns with no oil, its own source.

draw near. feel me. know me.

do you know who i am?

do i?

ceaseless consciousness. eternity
in form. a dream of the Universe
as i dream it during my days as a
Human.

You are the sum of creation,
You are the push into what is
yet to be formed,
the pregnant oracle.

you know

you flow

spiraling from the deep
mystery, wordless knowing.
following star maps of destiny
wavering on the bliss of eternity

know that whatever it is you want, it can be done.
You create the possibility & steward the vibration
to form. from the mulch of matter comes language
and life. wield the word with love and bless the world
with what you want, with what you give. this is how
you are God.

foundations

i taped pieces of paper together to paint on. then painted over
what i painted; a constant transformation. like life: changing:
re-arranging, the same colors in different forms. the former
images peeking from beneath, a foundation for the future.

an inevitable wanting to move forward, to know how to unbind
from what has been known to a new mode. each moment is a
threshold of decision, to make or break a destiny, a living future;
filled with wonder, filled with the euphoria of possibility. a color is
selected. the skid of a brushstroke. the image alters.

my mind drifted to success. i thought of people who are successful.
i felt that all of them had strong support of their family. emotional,
financial. i wonder how i can create success on my own, seeking
to augment the sense of fragmentation that colored my bringing up.

this is when the animals came flocking to the scene: a bright fire bird
in the sky like a sun. a swan white with a knowing eye steady on me
as i found the horse hiding in the swirls of blue & purple. each with a
message, a memory. the support arriving at the time i was reaching
for it, my absolute refusal to believe my past could hold me away
from that which i am seeking, to raise myself, to break, to transcend.

intention for resolution: identify, release, upgrade. paint on, paint
over, slather, writhe, pop, sigh. becoming. i generate the direction,
being me fearlessly. waiting, fluids, timing. the rhythm of life, the
rhythm of breath. communicating the interior fresh alive, skin inside
out all here in paint, to coalesce matter to being with the strength of
desire.

become.