Dance as if...

No One is Watching.. by Pam England

Click here to view article on the Birthing From Within website.

Ancient peoples danced to sanctify life, to celebrate rites of passage such as marriage. They danced and drummed in soulful preparation for physical ordeals, such as hunting or war, and, we might imagine, birth. Not so long ago, before families became isolated in television-addicted nuclear units, it was part of life for couples to dance socially, often in communal festivities: barn dances, street dances, and weddings. I think the joy and exercise of dancing must have had a positive impact on health during pregnancy, birth, and postpartum.

Reflect on the shocking, historical meeting of two worlds in the late 1800's: when "lady-like" American women bound in corsets that deformed their bodies beheld the sensuous and unselfconscious Middle Eastern dancers who arrived in New York and introduced Oriental dance, more commonly known now as Belly Dancing. Even today, some women are restrained physically and psychologically by abiding with a tacit agreement to "act like a lady," "keep your legs together," "be quiet, don't make a scene" and "for heaven's sake, don't move sensually."

What prevents most of us from dancing are the same assumptions and judgments that make us shy away from painting or writing poetry (or perhaps even laboring in our own way). Even kids are in on our cultural agreement to defer creativity to the professionals; and the rest of us only wish we were good enough to participate. If you ask kindergartners who can dance, who can paint, who can sing, every child raises their hand enthusiastically. By the time a child is in middle school, if you ask, "Who can dance?", only the gifted ones or the ones enrolled in classes would dare raise their hand!

I wonder how this attitude and collective hypnotic passivity affects the way women move through pregnancy and labor? Would you like to experiment with moving your body…moving your mind…moving your heart?

Make no effort to imitate professional dancers.
Dance Your Divine Feminine.
Dance Your Prayers.

Let the music move you. Begin with small, slow movements. Maybe your hands will dance first, then your wrists, elbows and shoulders. Or it might be that this music speaks to your right foot, ankle, and knee first. So, go with that: dance with your right foot and leg until the music moves both feet, both legs, and suddenly you find yourself in a free turn, stomping with wild abandon or jumping with joy. Let the music and dance, Dance You!

There is no "self" judgment when you dance your Divinity; "you" are not dancing; now, you become the activity of dance. You experience ecstasy; you experience the ecstasy of the music and being in your body.

Dance is essential preparation for childbirth.

During pregnancy, the joints loosen a little and the hips widen; the legs must carry extra weight. The deep, rhythmical movements of Oriental, African or Ecstatic dance strengthen and tone abdominal, back and leg muscles. Bending your knees, you become flexible in mind; you might spring into a new idea! Taking up space in a wide twirl, claim your right to be here; feel joy. Dance your feet; feel the earth. Breathe blessed life-giving energy into your body from the earth.

Some time ago Nicholee Froese, a doula, wrote me a letter describing the power of music and movement she witnessed during a labor she attended:

"I had been giving the mother therapeutic massage since the end of her first trimester and was honored to be present as she labored and gave birth. Four people supported her through labor. She wanted to be touched, preferably by about six hands at a time, through each contraction. Although she was working hard, labor was progressing slowly. A doula suggested a change in the music-from a calm, relaxing melody to something more upbeat. We put on a CD of African drumming and chanting."

African women bring to birth the tremendous strength they acquire from years of night-long, even week-long spirit dances. They dance to the lively beat of drums, big drums that sounded out the entrancing pulse of the universal heartbeat. It's no surprise that the rhythm of drumming, dancing and contractions are interrelated.

Nicholee continued,

"We coaxed the mother out of her safe position in bed, and, with one person on each side of her, we all began dancing to the beat of the drums. We put our hands on her hips and helped her move them to the rhythm. We all danced that baby out. It was a poignant experience."

When Dr. Michel Odent was medical director of the maternity clinic in Pithivier, France, he described (in his book Birth Reborn) the weekly sing-a-long with 72-year old Marie-Louise. It was the one weekly event he,

"wouldn't skip for the world…When she sits down at the piano, notes drop like pearls. Her voice rings out like pearls. Her voice rings out, singing for all the unborn babies and [their] mothers…She adjusts her glasses on her nose, and she's off again, into the celestial spheres of nursery rhymes and lullabies."

As the evening progresses,

"Marie-Louis steps up the rhythm. The melodies move faster and faster…In a flash, she is asking us to dance, to clear away the chairs, to float freely in the melodies of her guitar. And soon we are all dancing. When expectant mothers sing, they exercise their diaphragm muscles and learn to completely breathe out; they also learn unselfconsciousness and get in touch with their emotions. When everyone sings and everyone dances, it breaks down the hierarchy between professionals and parents. We share a community."

The universal healing power of music and dance

The healing power of music and dance is universal; we can receive it or share it with others without speaking the same language, without having to first explain what is troubling our heart. The healing comes mercifully when we immerse ourselves in the music, the rhythm and Move! The power of dancing grief is beautifully portrayed in an unforgettable passage in a favorite book of mine, Grace and Grit, by Ken and Treya Wilber. Ken writes of his experience in Germany, where they went for aggressive chemotherapy treatment in a final attempt to find a cure for Treya's breast cancer.

"I began walking the back streets of Godesberg feeling sorrier and sorrier for myself. At this point I was not so much thinking of Treya as I was wallowing in me. My whole life is in shambles and now Treya is going to die.
"As I walked and emoted I heard polka music coming from several blocks away. I followed the music to a cute little pub about six blocks out of town. Inside were perhaps a dozen men, all of them somewhat elderly, maybe in their late sixties, rosy cheeks from years of starting the day with Kolsch (beer). The music was lively…I loved this music. There were no women, and no younger men. About half the men were dancing together in a semicircle, arms over each others' shoulders, a type of Zorba-the-Greek dance, it looked like to me, every now and then kicking their legs up in unison…A few of the men danced in my direction and gesture for me to join them. No, thank you, no, I gesture back. A few beers later they gesture again, only this time one of them takes me by the arm, in a friendly way, and tugs…Awkwardly, very self-consciously, I join the men dancing, arms around those on both sides of me, moving back and forth, kicking our legs up every now and then. I start laughing, then I start crying, then laughing, then crying. I would like to turn away, to hide what is happening to me, but I am locked arm-and-shoulder into the semicircle. For about fifteen minutes I seem to lose all control over my emotions. Fear, panic, self-pity, laughter, joy, terror, feeling sorry for myself, feeling happy about myself they all come rushing through me and show on my face, which embarrasses me, but the men keep nodding their heads, and smiling, as if to tell me it's all OK, young man, it's all OK. Just keep dancing, young man, just keep dancing…Somehow, in that short period, it all seemed to come to a head, to rise up and wash through my system, to be exposed and to be accepted…I would like to claim that my big satori about accepting Treya's condition, that my coming to terms with her likely death came from some powerful meditation session with blazing white light and spontaneous insight pouring over me. But it happened in a little pub with a bunch of kindly old men whose names I do not know and whose language I did not speak."

Once, in a favorite childbirth class of mine, I played the soundtrack to Zorba The Greek. A dear father, a beautiful, soft-spoken artist from Bulgaria, so naturally gestured us to overlap our arms and forming a circle, we kicked-and-stepped in unison. We looked at one another, smiled at one another; the waves of love were palpable and melted away any residual fear or loss.

So, Don't Just Sit There and Think About It,
Get Up and Dance!

Put on a veil, a long colorful scarf, or a full swishy skirt. Put on the music; turn the volume up. Become the music; let your body BECOME the notes. Dance! Dance as if no-one is watching. Dance the way you want to live, the way you need to labor.

Videos:
•Prenatal Bellydance, an exercise video built on belly dance moves. Naia from New York leads the workout.
•Dance To The Great Mother, a video featuring a performance by Delilah when she was 8 months pregnant.

Copyright 2005, revised 2007 by Pam England and BIRTHING FROM WITHIN^®