This Is My Body, Given

I know I’ve been kind of quiet this week.

On Tuesday, I wrote a long essay that I’m sitting on–it’s good, I think, but also complicated. Maybe I’ll publish it later, maybe I won’t.

Since then, I’ve been busy with class and rehearsals and performances (one more tomorrow).

I’ve got full medical release as of today, but of course being who I am I’ve been working back into my body. It’s good to finally be able, once again, to do things: it’s amazing how good a simple pullover into the sling feels.

We put up the rig today, and I banged away at choreography for an hour. I stopped when I started to get tired and felt like I was probably teaching myself the wrong transitions.

Tonight I don’t feel sore, just tired and strong. I lifted 150 pounds of me and suspended that weight in a needle inversion nine or ten times. I climbed and re-climbed who knows how many times–this choreography does a lot of that. It demands that you work through the whole body. It leaves you feeling alive.

I realize that this is how I hope to feel at the end of any day: spent, but nothing a good night’s sleep won’t restore. I associate this feeling with things being good.

This is my body, given wholly to the creation of art. This is my body, given wholly to the present for many hours in a row.

This is my body that, right now, feels like a wonder and a miracle and leaves me suffuse with gratitude. This is my body, which in this moment I love and trust, even though I will feel differently in other moments.

At the end of the day, I love performing. I love an audience–but the prime mover, for me, is not the audience, but the immediacy of movement. Ballet and aerials consume us whole.

We are given entire into the fire of being while we dance.

Just a caterpillar from my lawn.

About asher

Me in a nutshell: Standard uptight ballet boy. Trapeze junkie. Half-baked choreographer. Budding researcher. Transit cyclist. Terrible homemaker. Neuro-atypical. Fabulous. Married to a very patient man. Bachelor of Science in Psychology (2015). Proto-foodie, but lazy about it. Cat owner ... or, should I say, cat own-ee? ... dog lover. Equestrian.

Posted on 2017/10/27, in aerials, balllet. Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

  1. What a great final line. Existential and all that. Sounds almost like something my Goddess would teach. Probably with real fire.

    This is my body, …

    Except for the bits the surgeon flushed. But bodies are like that I guess. Where the sacred meets the profane.

    • I like this idea of the sacred meeting the profane in the body. Very much in keeping with the whole universe of harmonious paradox.

      I keep thinking about this comment. Just finished reading Wally Lamb’s -I Know This Much Is True,- which taps Shiva, who in turn makes me think of Kali. I try not to ignore the Universe when it starts waving things in front of my face, so I’m reflecting on stuff. Don’t feel like it’s ready for writing about yet, though. I’m trying not to tie things down with words before I see them.

      • Funny you mention it.

        I’ve been gestating a short story (partly a rip off of tribute to J G Ballard) which involves a dance of destruction, but I’m not what you’d call particularly embodied and my feel for the movement lacks verisimilitude.

        Do you know what tandava is?
        Are you interested in a collaboration?

      • Hmm. I don’t know what tandava is–I’ll check it out. I’m definitely interested in a collaboration. That would be neat 🙂

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