The Warrior’s Dance

by SLY on August 17th, 2010

I find that I am able to engage more intensely in my Afro-Caribbean dance class if I dedicate the dance to a specific person, circumstance or train of thought. If I give the dance a story from my personal life and tie it into an African fable I create as I dance, my body forgets the steps and takes on a spirit in and of itself.

Two weeks ago, after resolving a situation with Mr. Officer and coming to a place of even better communication and intimacy, my dance was solely for him. Every moment was for him. Every time I shook my hip or moved my body, I let my moves embody our love. My teacher paid me the highest compliment that day.

One week ago, I dedicated the dance to my late grandmother Veola. The one year anniversary of her passing was on the same day as this class. A part of me wanted to go home, wallow and cry. A pity party seemed somewhat more interesting. Thank goodness common sense came over me and I took my grief and sadness to class with me. I called on my grandmother’s spirit. I let every move tell her story or my story as it intertwined with hers and my movements just clicked. Again my teacher wondered what had gotten into me.

This week I danced the warrior’s dance. This week I channeled my inner Zulu Warrior.

Perhaps there was still some residue issues left over from a few negative encounters I’ve had in the past. Whether its from one year ago, one month ago or from some childhood memory. As each of these situations, conflicts and people came to mind, I prepared myself for war. Every stomp of my feet was squashing another enemy. Every contraction was preparing my body for this battle. Every release was letting our a warriors celebration cry. Every time my hips swayed or my arms were lifted, it was a choreographed dance of my tribe to defeat the enemies trying to encroach on our land.

Talk about imagination! But it worked. I channeled that real life messiness into my art. I let every negative emotion, every resentment, every frustration find a place in a movement. My favorite by far was stomping my feet. Every time I stomped my feet an enemy was squashed. Because I found a metaphorically and perhaps metaphysical way to squash it, I can let it go. Should they return into my mind, I can transmute that thought by thinking on my class and remember the actions and the movements I did. I wish you could have seen me. I was fierce today. I was a rebel warrior with a cause and not one crappy situation or person was getting pass me. It was as if my personal sanctity and holy temple were behind me and I had to protect it. I could not let anyone get pass me and dare trifle in my sacred place.

Try it. Rather than using your emotions, your time, your mind, and your spirit dwelling on negative situations, use your art. Ball those shadows up and channel them into a poem. Have you checked out my Miss Eve series? Channel it into your music. Channel it into your dance. Your writing. Your photography. Your painting. Become a warrior through your art and let the frustration, anger, sadness and/or grief find its way on a blank canvass.

There are too many good-for-nothing “crazy” people trying to encroach upon your life. Let them bypass you and use their horrible actions, attitudes and words towards creating your next masterpiece. Stomp them with your paintbrush, dancing foot and poetic words. I find it to be a healthy creative way to deal with some forms on conflict. (Besides, you break no laws this way! )