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labelleizzy: from lj user= angelbob (creative resourceful sane)
Tuesday, November 27th, 2018 04:07 pm
Last night I went to dance class, and Monday night ecstatic dance class usually has some philosophical elements. There's a reason why I think of it as Dance Church.

Last night at Dance Church (laughing), we wound up talking about the fact that at in our dance class, we tend to, or even more strictly than tend to, are generally instructed to keep our communication nonverbal.

Which means that sometimes it can be difficult saying wholeheartedly yes, or no, to an invitation to dance or be intimate in other ways, not like sexy but intimate. Eye contact for example. We sometimes have difficulty getting what we want because there's the tradition of not using words.

So that was something that Claire was working on with us last night. For a change, last night our exercise or our thing to think about, involved us using our words to meet someone, invite them to walk with us, accept the verbal yes. We did that with a few partners, over the course of a few minutes, and then we spent a moment exploring opportunities to say no, with the explicit instruction to try some requests that the partner could say no to. John for example said can I mess up your hair? And I said no. And then he asked can I tickle your feet? And I said no, silly, I'm walking on them! To be continued...

It was a good exercise for me, to think about how do I offer space for yes. Yes is the hard answer for me, because I have trust things going on. It was also good exercise, because after we did those two yes's and no's verbally, practicing them with different partners, we paused for a little while, and discussed things in a circle and that happens very infrequently. Especially in this class. Claire led us through sharing and acknowledging what body language that says no, looks like. She used the terminology, open for business versus closed for business.

a non-verbal no on the Dance Floor might look like:

* No eye contact, or staring at the floor.
* Closed eyes
* Moving away from someone who's moving towards you, like they're about to ask you to dance.
* Dancing Really Big (this is one of mine)

A non verbal yes on the Dance Floor, might look like

* Eye contact on a friendly face
* Someone dancing near you and echoing your movements in some ways. Stewart is really good at doing this in a gentle and non-threatening way, which I profoundly appreciate.
* a big smile, and moving towards you instead of away

As with any part of society, we have had and our dance community, people who feel uncomfortable because other people are approaching them when they would rather be alone. John remember to me a time when he had been dancing quietly by himself with his eyes closed, only to open his eyes and suddenly there somebody right up against him dancing. Chelsea mentioned a pattern of behavior she's noticed, where other dancers talk to her after dance, mentioning that they thought she looked really sad because she was dancing alone. Or that they thought she look much happier on days that she was dancing with other people! I'm not quite sure what to do with that. I have not experienced that myself but I believe it!

I guess I have to acknowledge that we are all constantly judging each other. That judgment isn't necessarily mean or harsh, but that we are making decisions about people around us and near us, our safety and our environment, all day everyday.

The problem with a non-verbal environment, is that disambiguation is really hard. The fact that I'm happiest dancing on My Own a lot of the time, should be something that people can observe and respect, and they're welcome to offer or join me, and I'm welcome to say no or yes, according to how safe I feel.

I mean, earliest on, when I started doing this form of Dance, I came from a dance Community before this, where if you didn't have a partner you would not get to dance! Set dances require a partner, ballroom dances require a partner. But ecstatic dance, is a free-form dance. And you can dance however you want with or without whoever you want.

I think I really appreciate, says the woman whose nickname is Words, putting that into words. The previous feelings of loneliness and feeling abandoned, when a dance would go on and I didn't have a partner, though I would want to dance! And how you judged yourself as being unworthy, if you couldn't find a partner, especially for a particular special dances, I am remembering I kind of panicky feeling, rushing around trying to find a partner for that one waltz, or that one set dance. And how disappointing it was to not have a partner!

I appreciate the freedom, so much of being able to explore my own body and how I move in a semi-public space. I remember when I started with this dance community how hungry for movement, contact and attention I was, how angry I was at myself for not having a partner to dance with, like it was my fault for being new and not having those relationships with people. I remember thinking that everyone was already in their little clicks and that I would never have that kind of closeness with folks in that space.

But now, I have been doing this for years and I've made friends, in spite of only rarely talking to them or only talking to a few of them outside dance. I feel safe there. I share, I share of myself, not as much with words as with letting go of my own movement oriented limitations. I let my shoulders move. I let my breasts move. I recently found permission for myself to let my hips move, even though that little critic in the back of my head, worries that someone's thinking like I'm trying to seduce somebody. But I'm not, and anybody who has that misapprehension, honestly? That's on them. That is not my fault nor is it my problem. And because this is a safe space I don't worry about it, or very little. Unlike in the so called real world.

It can be really freaking hard to be a woman in America. And especially over the last two years it's been really freaking hard. Quite honestly I've been hiding in my house and glad to work from home. But I have spent an extended period of time studying how to move, freely and with confidence, how to give and receive permission, how to offer consent and ask for it. I need to move out into the world to do more of that.

Okay, goals.
I'm going to invite Claire to read this.
Think more about intimacy and safety.
labelleizzy: (hugging)
Thursday, November 15th, 2018 12:22 pm
Was talking with Jenn this morning and we were talking about sex and kissing and generally being fed, emotionally.

Being fed, emotionally, is what I call intimacy.

I was thinking about writing a Tumblr post, and maybe I'll adapt this for that purpose, because Intimacy comes in a MILLION forms that AREN'T sex. And there needs to be an understanding of that. Across the board, there needs to be an understanding of that.

Sex isn't necessarily intimacy. Sex doesn't necessarily feed your spirit and self, or make you feel satisfied.

Orgasm isn't necessarily intimacy either. (though sex without a satisfying orgasm can be classified as "bad sex", it can still feel intimate, especially if there's clear communication about what's going on and why, or if at least one partner feels like it's a gift to their partner) I could write so much about this, but that's what I've got at the moment.

Intimacy can be the right amount of eye contact during a meaningful discussion.
Or it can be someone who knows just when to offer a hug, and who holds on as long as you need it..
Intimacy can be the kind of hug where you can hear the other person's heartbeat and you just feel safe.
Or it can be touching and being touched in the ways that feel satisfying.

(I'm laughing at myself a little, because part of the reason I'm writing this is that I've had a song stuck in my head for two days, and it seems like it's an anthem for ace/asexual folks...)



Intimacy isn't about being naked with someone. (necessarily!) I've been hot tubbing for literally decades. It can be sexual, it can be chill. It can be friendly, or there can be no connection whatever between you and the other naked person...

But then there's this: One time at Kiva (santa cruz hot tub place) I met someone in the public space talking-allowed tub. For some reason we wound up talking about the fact that I was considering having ACL reconstruction/knee surgery. Probably that my body was hurting all the time, and I'd only recently finally learned that the ACL on my right knee wasn't just damaged, it was not just broken, but it was completely GONE. My ACL had broken so long before I and my doctors figured it out and got the MRI testing done, that my body had cannibalized the tissue, cleaned it right out.

I'm talking to the guy. It felt safe to express my fears about surgery, generally, and also to explain and describe the ongoing chronic pain I had been suffering. (when your body is missing a structural member, the muscles elsewhere in the body overwork to make up for that lack. This frequently causes serious pain.)

He says, I had that kind of surgery twenty years ago, things are VERY different now. He lifts his knee out of the water, there's a giant red scar circling 2/3-3/4 of his knee. He says, this is how they used to do ACL replacement, before arthroscopic surgery. He describes the process, which I'll spare you from hearing. Then he describes how they do surgery "now" (in 2011) with small incisions, a camera to guide the surgeon, and a much shorter recovery time.

Being naked and in a trusting environment facilitated the intimacy. Which was the sharing of personal stories, advice, and perspective, and LISTENING. Listening, with a mind to HELP.

I did get that surgery, (which is now 7 years ago on my personal timeline) in part because I had this conversation. He said it was worth getting, even back when he got it, even with the extensive scarring and longer recovery period. I'd thank him, if I met him again and recognized him.

That felt intimate. Shared stories and kindness.

Contrariwise, I have an ex boyfriend who used the being naked together/having been naked together, as an awkward means to try and reconnect and/or hit on people. It became One of his usual greetings. "Hey, haven't I seen you naked?"

He thought he was funny, I guess. Eh. *eyeroll*

My friend L is asexual, smart, funny, punny, charming, cute. She's one of the reasons why that song up there got stuck in my head. I've taken a year of pottery classes with her, and we camped together at Burning Man this year, sharing some adventures. We come from different backgrounds, but we always have been able to talk about all kinds of things. She asks the most interesting questions, because she's *interested* in people and how they think and feel about a variety of different things.

Conversations with L are always interesting and intimate. Lots of people say "small talk is bullshit" but she asks real questions, and answers real questions thoughtfully. She's really REAL.

Another example: a different friend needed a safe space and to be listened to and be a little bit squished last night. Then she needed to cry. She cried, for hours, on my shoulder and in my arms. She needed to talk and vent about her sorrows and anger and disappointment about her relationship disintegrating under her, despite her best efforts. And her efforts have been many, detailed, and persistent, in trying to "fix" her marriage, to communicate clearly, to set her boundaries. I admire the work she's been doing, and I'm fucking sad as hell and disappointed in her partner for blowing past her boundaries, ignoring her communication, and failing to show up and meet her with a similar amount of effort.

But being the person who she feels safe enough to cry with?

That's a kind of intimacy like no other. Offering her safe space and the kind of physical contact she needed to let go for awhile... there was nothing sexual involved, just two humans being human together in pain and comfort.

Intimacy comes in friendly touch, in fixing someone's hair or collar, scratching the spot on their back that they can't reach. (I think of those grooming touches as a monkey-mind socialization.)

Intimacy can be instant and temporary, or can build over time.

and the thing that I finally understand, after years and years of working on my "trust issues" and anxiety and depression, is that it's always always always based on *mutual* consent and connection.

Post two is coming up.
There's a dark underbelly that I wanted to keep separate from this particular discussion.