If I Could Dance.....
Lately at church we've had some dancers who have been coming out into the open. They have presented us with dance performances that have left me "emotionally volatile".
I stand there watching, holding back tears, wanting my feet to dance, knowing they are frozen in fear and shame. I'm afraid of the uncoordinated mess that would result in my attempt at graceful movement. I'm ashamed of my fear, shallow as it is. Suddenly I am aware of the huge disconnect between my physical body and the person I am in my spirit.
My body is still obeying the dictates of the "good girl" church mandates of my childhood. My mennonite blood boils when I try to dance in my kitchen, alone. The childlike, mechanical movements bring me to my knees in frustration, as my Father is pleased with my attempt. The battle between natural and spirit realms rages on.
Fear. The fear of the church leaders who didn't want people to move on the stage for fear of sensual movements that would give the wrong impression. Eyes blind to beauty because they could see dance only as evil and sexual. The righteous protection of the church? What if there was a possibility of a dance that was pure and free? Where did it belong?
Now I can see the lies, now I can feel the regret. Now I'm battling again for what might have been, for what I could possibly be.
If I could express what is in my spirit....the loveliness and grace still lives. The dancer moves with grace, intensity, passion, emotion and depth. I can float on air. I can express my love and please the heavenly realms with passionate love poured out. I can dance over people, I can war, I can prophesy and bless with gentle abandon. I can dance.
But for now, I am blessed to watch the dancers release freedom. For now I will let my spirit dance and I'll pray for freedom. I can see it coming, as much for me as for "the body".
Lately at church we've had some dancers who have been coming out into the open. They have presented us with dance performances that have left me "emotionally volatile".
I stand there watching, holding back tears, wanting my feet to dance, knowing they are frozen in fear and shame. I'm afraid of the uncoordinated mess that would result in my attempt at graceful movement. I'm ashamed of my fear, shallow as it is. Suddenly I am aware of the huge disconnect between my physical body and the person I am in my spirit.
My body is still obeying the dictates of the "good girl" church mandates of my childhood. My mennonite blood boils when I try to dance in my kitchen, alone. The childlike, mechanical movements bring me to my knees in frustration, as my Father is pleased with my attempt. The battle between natural and spirit realms rages on.
Fear. The fear of the church leaders who didn't want people to move on the stage for fear of sensual movements that would give the wrong impression. Eyes blind to beauty because they could see dance only as evil and sexual. The righteous protection of the church? What if there was a possibility of a dance that was pure and free? Where did it belong?
Now I can see the lies, now I can feel the regret. Now I'm battling again for what might have been, for what I could possibly be.
If I could express what is in my spirit....the loveliness and grace still lives. The dancer moves with grace, intensity, passion, emotion and depth. I can float on air. I can express my love and please the heavenly realms with passionate love poured out. I can dance over people, I can war, I can prophesy and bless with gentle abandon. I can dance.
But for now, I am blessed to watch the dancers release freedom. For now I will let my spirit dance and I'll pray for freedom. I can see it coming, as much for me as for "the body".
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home