lunes, 26 de julio de 2021

MORE THOUGHTS ON THE MEETING PLACE BETWEEN SOMATICS AND EXPRESSIVE ARTS—


In thinking about this intimate meeting place between somatics and the expressive arts, the metaphor of a key comes to mind. We could think of it as a single doorway through which we can enter or go out into the world. It is as though it is the same door and there are two keys.  Our sense of freedom, we could say, is based on being able to come and go at will. 

Ultimately, there is a place we know, or have considered which is non-dual, a reality or dimension where there is no difference between inner and outer. Yet here we are with the more quotidian markers that give us a sense of orientation— in and out, up and down, right and left.  

Here as we stand one side or the other of our door, we have two keys, one, the somatic key, opens up the inner world, of intero- and proprioception—how we sense ourselves as a discrete being in the world—while at the same time, oddly enough, this heightened awareness, ultimately leads us to a recognition of just how connected we are with everything. As we become aware of our breath, we become aware of the temperature of the air, its scent, the essential nourishment it provides as it enters our nostrils, already communicate deeply into the whole of our consciousness through the olfactory bulb.  The very act of bringing awareness to perception has already changed us.   

And then, as we approach the door again, this time with the key of expression in our hands and we slip it into the lock... We are responding now to what is present.  In expression, we are not just responding to the interoception, the proprioception (which as we have seen is the ground for connection with everything), but we are also, connecting with the whole of what is, beyond ourselves, much like the communication of the nerves, that receive through the dendrites, on through the cell body, and then given certain conditions, send on information (electrical impulses—or in our case, sound, song, movement, drawings, expression) which is then available to the nervous network. 

Expression is a form of recognition of the greater intelligence of the whole, of the "field", of our interconnectedness. Priming expression, intelligent responsiveness, makes us all more intelligent as we are part of and participate in this field. As the experiences are refined, the signals are refined, and the dance becomes more precise, more eloquent, harmonious, attuned... This is how we can weave a beautiful social fabric, a community in harmony, a healthy, thriving organism.  

And, here is a doorway into a perception that goes beyond our species-centric orientation, because the web of life, is so much more.  As the channels of perception are opened up, and the expression (communication) amplifies this refinement, sensitivity, there is a consciousness of the whole—of the concerts of the birds singing in the trees, or flying together through the sky, of the ants making winding trails on the earth, of the kindness of the dogs who attend to the wellbeing of humanity, of trees and plants who feed us their oxygen... their songs, their dances become a part of our own body, of experience.

Within a more species-centric perspective, we can speak about how expression is key to what makes us human.  Of how the baby looks up into the caretaker's face for bonding, for belonging, to communicate and develop his or her own "I"ness in the world. The building blocks of who we are is intimately entangled with expression, with call and response of gurgled and cooing sounds, of moving eyes and mouth... all triggers for the "social engagement system", for the "love hormone" oxytocin.  This provides a sense of belonging and safety and connection to something beyond ourselves, a context, and a sense of meaning in our particular context.

In this bonding to our context, to our family, our place on the earth, culture, country, region, etc... all that becomes a "marker" for our identity, there is at the same time, a narrowing that occurs, as I get the sounds right for "my" clans language, I abandon other sounds that are viewed as "meaningless".  Little or no interest is given to the relatively open experimentation of the infant.  Yet somehow, we never forget entirely, this place of drawing outside the cultural lines, this place of open play, this place of inclusion without judgment of right and wrong.  And it is from the play that genius is born.  

In expressive arts, we talk of range of play, of expanding the range of play.  It is on the metaphorical playground, where we experiment with the rules, or throw them out, and make new combinations where innovation happens.  And it is precisely the exploration of innovation that keeps us vital, growing, learning—it is here that new synaptic connections are forged. As human beings we need play, experimentation, innovation to remain vital, interested and as a way of learning how to adapt and dance with our environment.  And as a way of healing when old synaptic routes (old ways of doing things) are injured or go astray.

Society has always depended on the artists (or the shamen) to keep forging new connections that help the collective intelligence (nervous system) of the whole adapt, grow, meet change.  In each of us there is a seed of the artist, of the shamen... they are part of archetypal makeup as human beings.  Some of us recognize the call or the call is stronger, more needed, more urgent... and yet I have found in my students that when it is uncovered, this flame begins to glow, it is the alluring, seductive call of the Self, of the soul.  This is part and parcel of the human soul and with its love affair with life, love and beauty. Perhaps, more than ever, we all need to learn to hear this calling, to identify that which is calling us forth into beauty.  The Navaho's have a healing chant which I paraphrase "I walk in beauty, beauty before me, beauty behind me, beauty above me, beauty below, beauty all around me, beauty within me, I walk in beauty..." 

 —Lorena Wolfman



domingo, 25 de julio de 2021

ON THE MEETING PLACE OF SOMATICS AND EXPRESSIVE ARTS—

The invitation is present now, to write, word upon word, or paint, color upon color, or dance, gesture upon gesture, the sensations traced in your body's memory or arising, now... you are full of all you have lived, and what you are living. Being poetically open now to the present moment of flow can be felt implicitly, held in the knowing of your cells, or can be expressed explicitly. There is something of a tacit orientation and understanding that expression is an extension of your comprehensive sense of perception, which is, in turn, a part of the collective sense organ of existence... 

Expressing, explicitly, in gesture, word, paint, sound with the intention that it carry the vibration of your experience is part of the creative act of becoming. Also of sharing, of amplifying, of making seen, felt, heard. It is a mirror, not only of your inner experience but a mirror to the collective, to the other who is in you. We see ourselves through each other and are invited to move more deeply into the wonder of it all. 

Being present. Your presence in the present moment. So simple, so mysterious. It's about being here, where your senses are alive, where you are alive with the rest of existence. You are an expression of the whole, of what has been, of what is, and what will be. You are a mirror and a co-creator of the matrix of being, universal intelligence as it may be expressed through each individual. 

Expression becomes part of the collective soma, as the message of what is is sent into the collective tissue-soul-perception where the very process of sensing and expressing is a function of intelligence—the collective sensing and expressing (communicating) enhances the intelligence, the elegance, and the beauty of the whole. 


—Lorena Wolfman



rising...

leaning into the sole of my right foot 

pressing the ball against the skin of ground

my eyes surveying the circumference

of lateral seduction

the cervical spine revels in

eyes arcing to the right 

texture light color

and again to the left

in long slow vaulted sweeps

recalling all that moves sideways

and down inviting the breath of up

and mobile serpentine vertical possibility

a fountain of sensation upwards

each vertebra in turn rising 

anchoring to rise further

arising arisen risen realm of up

a pivotal chain of suspension

I balance on the strong shoulders 

of earth's gravity


—Lorena Wolfman 


sábado, 24 de julio de 2021

the formless way and the sinuosity of experience...


ephemeral

diaphanous

layered

experience

of time and light gusting

over my shadow 

lain bare on the ground

the caress of invisible space

holds the shape of my translucent form

cast downward by the sun

overlaid on hard earth 

marked by water's flowing sinuosity 

here

or  there

by the cracked puzzle

of a long-gone puddle

cracks and fractured pieces

of the earth's skin

all that is left behind

of the water 

magnetized by sunlight

into evaporation

and into long gone clouds

with their hosts of restless guests

changing forms with one another

fleetingly becoming 

something altogether different

and then again

altogether new

innovation is water's way



—Lorena Wolfman


viernes, 23 de julio de 2021

about flight on broken wings...

you have made a home

in my history

(still flying above me

outside of time

like a prayer)

for all you taught me

about angels who have broken

about flight on broken wings

broken wings made stronger 

by glue

the particular

jagged forms of the fractures

now worn on their scapulae 

like a filagreed adornment

revealing their brilliant shining soul


—Lorena




where breath is born...

the scent rising

and whirling on the wind

calling forth my breath

becoming my breath

breathing 

through my own ancestral nostrils

calling me forth

to meet the land

to meet the air

the sunlight bouncing everywhere

the turgid texture of maguey

its translucent spines 

drawing edges in space

foreground background 

a middle space of mystery

where anything could happen

the moisture hidden underfoot

in wild weeds

the weed flowers wild

release their call

their scent calling me forth

from a remembered place

where breath is born


—Lorena 




each breath...

the wind blows through me

weaving into my breath

it's always a dance

it's never my own

there are so many of us

breathing in and breathing out

into each breath

the gentle pungent scent

of grasses and wild herbs

rise up with each step

on this dance of air

of moving space

tendrils of my hair

are taken up into suspension

almost beyond the reach of gravity

yet gravity is directing each step

back to the ground

and this dance

is a dance with gravity

and suspension

arising and falling

with each breath

each step

each gust

the sunlight revealing

only what is not absorbed

into the flesh of each thing

lavender blaze of red grey-green

the curves of the no-so distant hills

only what is not absorbed 

into the flesh

of each breathing thing...


—Lorena