Estrellx Supernova Photo by Williams College Photography Club. [ID: Estrellx is laying naked, face down, spiritually surrendering their body along the riverbank of The Green River in Williamstown, MA. The riverbank is covered with leaves. On the right side there is a mirror resting on a tree. There are white candles in the upper left and lower right.]
Pt. 1 |
Where is home?
Home is where the heart is.
And where is the heart?
At the center of the Earth.
Center.
Core.
Center.
Core
Center.
Core.
Suddenly, a channel appears. A channel with several nodes and receptors located within and outside of the body.
You have to make a choice on how you’d like to enter the space.
Go with your gut. Always.
Our bodies are mirroring the body of the Earth and the Earth in turn mirrors the pathways and forces of the Universe. Each cell of our bodies is a miniscule fractal of this much larger picture, containing within its structures a reflection of the macro ecosystems that make our lives on this planet possible. We are interminably moving within a series of spirals and concentric circles whether we can tune into these perceptual shifts and movements or not. What happens in one part of the system (or body), directly impacts another aspect of that same system (or body). What are the implications of being so deeply entangled with one another? What does this mean about boundaries? How can we use this quantum understanding to leverage the power of our differences instead of using them to become more polarized? And yet even polarization is necessary in the process of evolution we find ourselves in. What benefit does polarization provide? I believe in ___________. My voice matters. I matter. In order to understand our limitations, sometimes we must drift into and out of extremes. And extreme pressure is what precious stones need in order to step more fully into their true form, shape, and nature. Each one of us, a unique vessel, a unique stone, vibrating at a unique frequency, imprinted with a divine purpose to breathe and be. Be in joy, in pleasure, in love.
What if? What if? What if I just spent time strengthening my imagination and my relationship to my inner child?
Thank You:
Water.
Air.
Animal & Plant Beings.
Gravity.
Celestial Bodies.
My Constellation of Care.
Our Ancestors and ourselves as Future Ancestors.
Without their effort, I would not be here today writing these words or perhaps I would be, but in a different form, language, tone.
Pt. 2 |
“To be islanded” are lyrics that stand out from a recent Moses Sumney track I was listening to, where Sumney’s guest, Taiye Selasi, speaks about the experience of growing up feeling islanded. This resonates with my nomadic spirit that has been in search of a new home base for a while. It’s funny the way being in the thick of the search creates blindspots to what has been right in front of me the whole time. I was talking with a friend, Alexis, at the beginning of the pandemic and we both shared that shifting into an even more isolated state due to the pandemic actually felt like the rest of the world was catching up to where we had already been. I was in awe and struck by the unified choreography of the entire globe shutting down, slowing down, and moving into becoming islanded. Islands of grief, loss, transmutation, surrender, mutual care, heart break, being mirrored room by room, country by country. We are and will continue to mirror one another. What are the through-lines and unifying forces at play? In Lak’ech. Birth. Death. Rebirth.
In conversation with another friend, day, they mentioned that the apocalypse we are facing now has been going on for hundreds and hundreds of years. I agree. Those of us with bloodlines that extend into multiple diasporas continue shadow dancing and tender wrestling with our various selves. How do we bring and invite these disparate parts home and into a cohesive whole? Our people have already been through this before so how do we source into their wisdom and resilience? Why does this pattern of oppression continue to repeat itself? What has not yet been integrated from this pattern? What core wound lies at the root? What need remains unmet? And are we ready, individually and collectively, to divest from these patterns and give them the space that they need to transmute? Are you ready to let go of the identities you hold so dearly and close to your heart as a gateway for remembering who you really are?
How did our people not see this coming and how were our own people involved in perpetuating the cycle of trauma, violence, and oppression? What function, desire, and need is served/met by those oppressing? Are we subconsciously agreeing to being oppressed? How do we rupture the systemic infrastructures that are in place tying the bow of Manifest Destiny together? And how can we conjure another way, the old way, the way of pre-colonial magic (without romanticizing this time) and knowing that this magic is right here in front of all of us, and within us, hidden in plain sight?
D
N
A
And as we know there were always beings, human and non-human, who were stewards of these lands before colonial forces came to lay claim over a place, disrupting these ecosystems vibrationally by giving them a new name. What we name anything matters. What is your preferred name? What are your preferred pronouns?
Stolen.
Wealth.
Stolen from beneath our feet.
Voices silenced.
Limbs shackled.
What happened to you that your prime directive has become to consume even to your own detriment?
“More,” they said, “I want more. What I have isn’t enough. And therefore, I am not enough and I won’t be enough until I have everything. Give me everything so that I can hoard and fill the void of my existence with distractions that buy me time so I don’t have to feel my pain.” I’ve been guilty of this too though. Of piling on the workload as a way of running away from myself. Of hyperproductivity that gets in the way of calling in the kind of intimacy I desire. The beauty has been that no matter where in the world I have gone, my wounds were there to welcome me, asking me to attend to them. To hold them with reverence and acknowledge how they have shaped me. Even the darkest of shadows need love too and often contain the medicine you need and are meant to share with the world.
Pt. 3 |
It was 6:05am when the phone rang and my dad’s voice, full of terror, said “Go wake up your mom and sister and tell them NOT to open the door.” I immediately hung up, but it was too late. I could hear the front door being unlocked and my mom’s gentle voice whispering to the ICE officers in Spanish.
I’ve been thinking about this moment and my parents’ migration to the United States recently and how this has afforded me the privilege of and access to U.S. citizenship. It took them 10+ years to go through their process of naturalization that unfortunately involved this incident of deportation. Deportations often happen in broad daylight and at wee hours of the morning so as to be discreet and not sound the alarm within the respective neighborhoods. In essence, there is a system in place that grants humans with the authority to disappear and move bodies. Lxs Desparecidxs. This event created a series of ghosts within the family that haunted us, in addition to the phenomenon of feeling islanded for being queer within this same family. What do you do with the presence of someone you love who is still alive yet no longer around? Does this qualify as a kind of death?
This deportation happened during Obama’s tenure as president leaving my family bitter, torn, economically in debt, and stoking anti-Black sentiments. In 2021, I found out that I have roots connecting me to Angola, further complicating these anti-Black, anti-Indigenous sentiments that have been expressed within the bloodline. How do you love someone even when their views do not align with your own? How do I account for the gaps in information I have been able to access and theirs? Intergenerational collaboration takes work.
My mother eventually followed my sister’s journey back to Guatemala because if she didn’t, it would have delayed the process of either of them obtaining U.S. citizenship and potentially not being able to return at all. I couldn’t believe it. How could this be happening for a f****** piece of paper? How many people are waiting and continuing to wait? Waiting for the facade of a fractured American Dream?
Pt. 4 |
Let’s be real:
There is no level playing field here. We have to co-create it and turn to nature and AfroIndigenous stewards.
There are several businesses in the form of industrial complexes with legislation that keeps the system well oiled and moving forward.
There is a scarcity mindset that needs to be attended to coming from inherited and experienced trauma, and all of the systems need to be radically redesigned without perpetuating the same colonialist patterns, and people need to be compassionately held accountable without being discarded or executed.
How do we move and create within a frequency of abundance when so much of our education and infrastructural systems are drilling into our subconscious that we are marginal, marginalized, working-class bodies, never going to amount to anything except the pipeline? I genuinely rebuke this on the daily.
So…how do we do this?
Follow your pleasure.
Ask your heart.
Take some time to listen to the frequency and tone of your Spirit.
Together we can come up with a myriad of approaches.
I don’t think the U.S. ever really felt like home until this last year when I was forced to stay and examine my American-ness.
What makes me American?
What makes me cringe?
What can I not say?
What ancestral lineages claim me?
TURN-ONS:
When I think about my American identity, I immediately think of the movie Mean Girls. There is something so iconic and poignant about how this film represents everything beautiful and terrible about this country through narratives centering high school coming-of-age motifs (and the lack of any BIQTPOC/BIPOC lead roles in the film…surprise surprise). I’m obsessed with Regina George. I’m obsessed with “on Wednesdays we wear pink.” I’m obsessed with the cheesy Christmas dance routine they do, especially when the CD player gets kicked into the mom’s face accidentally. I’m definitely into morbid humor.
I LOVE a good burger with fries. I LOVE chicken tenders and mozzarella sticks and slushies on a hot summer night on the East Coast. I LOVE(D) smoking blunts. I LOVE brunch after a night out with the homies. I LOVE Whole Foods. I LOVE my BIQTPOC+++ lovers, cuties, who are my ride or die fam-fam through thick and thin and make this place what it is…one of many homes.
I LOVE Beyoncé, Rihanna, Shakira, Lady Gaga, RuPaul, Selena, and other American icons.
And let’s be real again: I don’t know if I would have survived attending a public high school like the one in Mean Girls or in the neighborhood I was born in back in NJ. I ended up at a boarding school where luckily if anyone was verbally homophobic and/or physically attacked me in any way due to my queerness they would have been expelled. The boarding school saga is an entirely different story for another day, but what I will say is that those Berkshire mountains became a nest, home, resting ground where I started dancing.
2003 – 2006: I was selected to be the morning announcements, birthday roll-call person and this involved reciting the Pledge of Allegiance, every day, for three years. I was always late and subconsciously, probably on purpose because I hated doing this. The beginning of healing my relationship to my own voice.
TURN-OFFS: small talk especially the kind during introductions where people really just care about the institutions you’ve attended and the networks you’re a part of and then ask, “No, but where are you really from?…If you’re from Africa, why are you white? OMG Karen, you can’t just ask people why they’re white!”
I have a strong distaste of the holidays as faux reasons for gathering and expressing love, the Electoral College, the Gregorian Calendar, Newton’s Laws of Motion / white men in general creating rubrics and standards and systems that only acknowledge their privileged ontology (and hey…I LOVE me some scientific method and mathematical equations, however nothing is devoid of Spirit / Spirit will probably never reveal itself through data and statistics because Spirit is unquantifiable), the genocide/militarization of Central America that was (and probably still is) funded by the U.S. and then the labeling of an entire people and their land as third world, when in fact the U.S. is “a third world country with a gucci belt on,” as an IG post so deliciously reminded me last week.
I can’t stand the waiting in line, waiting in line, waiting in line at the DMV, at the doctor’s office, at the post office, at the restaurant. I don’t like shopping malls (especially Walmart where they sell guns like candy). I don’t like the fact that wealth that belongs to the people is being hoarded, that there isn’t a robust healthcare system or a robust basic living income for ALL. I’m questioning the efficacy of cancel culture. I’m over the ethos of professionalism and having to be nice to white people who aren’t doing their work (especially those folks who are in the spiritual / healing world and bypassing hella hard). I’m over the gatekeepers. I’m over the white picket fence and the cis-het-monogamous couple with their three kids, their dog, their cat, and the respective homes for each of their pets.
Don’t get me wrong: I definitely yearn to have a series of homes, to live a life that centers my pleasure and desires, but NOT at the expense or exploitation of another being’s life and NOT without disregarding the Earth as a primary collaborator and living being-system. What is possible when wealth is circulating and moving through conscious minds, hearts, hands?
Pt. 5 |
Since high school, I’ve been blessed with the opportunity to study abroad through varying dance and choreographic contexts. What I’ve loved about my journeys is that each place brings out hidden energies within my genetic code; a zodiacal alchemy is allowed to come forward and express itself in ways that aren’t always possible within the United States. Something I’ve noticed is that the older I get, the more protective, sensitive, and tender I become with respect to my gender expression. I genuinely feel so weighed down by conditioning that my next area of compassionate examination is unpacking this thread by thread. In undergrad, I definitely felt more connected to my femininity and now my masculinity feels more present like an amulet, a protective mechanism. I know there are no rules here, but I silently whisper to myself that I’m non-binary, Two-Spirit, yet again what words, sounds did my peoples use for these expressions? What words, sounds, movements do I wish to create?
So what do binaries allow for? What is important to acknowledge about dichotomous thinking and how easy it is to trip into divided ways of thinking? What I recognize and define as the color blue was taught to me so now the work becomes seeing that color for the first time over and over again until it defines itself to me without any external imposition. This is what I want for myself. A fresh start. A new point of departure.
An inherent part of being in a human body means wrestling with limitations, boundaries, and imposed definitions. Yes, our Spirit is infinite, but our body needs food, rest, touch, companionship, motivation. These energies, like the Divine Feminine and Divine Masculine, are constantly in an improvisatory dance where through our choices we get to gift ourselves what we need moment to moment. And sometimes we slip beyond our edges. And this is often necessary too so that we understand what our limits are. The skin becomes a direct expression of this, both sheltering us from the external world yet soft and porous, allowing what we need to feel fully nourished in, inside out / outside in, in.
Yet even the skin cracks and tears.
Nothing lasts forever.
Not even the flesh on these bones will.
The flesh will ultimately return and feed the Earth in an infinite cycle, spiral, and loop.
Fractals on fractals on fractals.
So what is a boundary?
An invocation?
A prayer?
A request for space and time to discern what one’s true needs and desires are?
A boundary allows me to fill up the well of my capacity first and foremost, and from this place of abundance extend my energy out into the world.
A boundary can also change with time.
How much time?
As much time as you need, Queridx, Dear One.
There are no timelines or due dates for your healing process.
Pt. 6 |
On an application I was writing one of the questions asked me, “When have you felt the most free?”
I replied:
- The House party I stumbled upon on a pier in Jersey City that was happening along the Hudson River, a celebration of multi-generational Black life;
- Spending time with loved ones where the conversation flows and the energy around us becomes light and sweet like honey;
- Where there is space to dance, feast, make love, move and become bodies of waters, becoming mountainous bodies;
- The sensation of performing and communing with my Cosmic Self, with all of me, a site where I am able to create a new positionality, where I get to shift my perspective, which is a gift because it means I am training myself to see the world differently. And from this place of softened awareness, I become more available to receive unconditional love and compassion. This doesn’t always feel like a walk in the park though. There is also space for grief, rage, sadness, and disorientation too. Of sifting through the mud and doing my best to discern what is my own, what is collective, what is ancestral, what is not my own. There is no right or wrong here, Queridx. There are just experiences and emotions that yearn to channel through us, through you. Experiences and emotions that yearn to be acknowledged by our own presence. Through this witnessing, they are granted permission to pass through our vessels and into the Earth. We must give ourselves permission to move on;
- The spaces and places where I don’t have to compartmentalize or hide any part of me, especially the parts of me that are spiritual, that have experienced harm, that are weird, witchy, ritualistic, into erotic excavation; spaces and places where ALL of me is welcome exactly the way that I am. Nothing to fix, nothing to do, no need to perform here. This is the space I am busy cultivating. Simply being and basking in the presence of others who are committed to doing the same;
- The Holy Spirit;
- The Dance Floor Make-Out;
I picked up the phone and texted my mother, “I don’t go by that name anymore. Mi nombre es Estrellx. Si quieres que nuestra relación y amistad sigan creciendo va ser muy importante que integres esto,”
“Ok esta bien. Que pases un lindo día.”
They don’t understand. They’re from another generation, another timezone, another planet. And grace, offer them grace.
“Tienes que saber que va a tomar tiempo…poco a poco.”
“Yo entiendo.”
It’s interesting how somatically impacted I feel when folks accidentally use my dead name. On some days it doesn’t matter and on other days a shudder runs through my spine in acknowledgment that the phase constituted by Randy Reyes has passed. Conversely, the shudder also signifies that I am becoming aligned with a new identity and frequency. The frequency of Estrellx Supernova is asking me to change and show up for myself each and every day, especially when old patterns rear their heads and jump to the surface not wanting to let me move forward. A new name, like giving a work a title that aligns with your choreographic vision, is a humble announcement of all the work it has taken to bring the project to fruition. Estrellx is my present-future self and acknowledges the insurmountable loss I have had to move through, the reclamation of my inner child, the tectonic shifts within my own healing journey that brought me back home to myself, to this primary relationship that I had neglected for such a long time. And now that I am in relation to myself again, the work is now about letting others into my sacred space. Estrellx is challenging me to release patterns and narratives that are no longer serving me, including not taking myself too seriously, releasing mutual exclusivity (I can be both spiritual and sexual-erotic), to be okay with getting messy, awkward, as I ask for what I need. This work is daily, subtle, and incremental. The process of edging towards myself is an erotic process in and of itself and is requiring a disentanglement from who I thought I was.
Pt. 7 |
I’ve been taking a class called Living Systems with an instructor named Leah Garza who offers many spiritual support systems including Akashic Readings. The course is about examining one’s conditioning, unpacking universal laws, and pulling apart the systemic oppressive layers that bind us to this reality and one another. As part of the course, Leah integrates guest speakers and one of them was a Central American curanderx named Koyote the Blind. Towards the end of his lecture, Koyote asked our class to introduce ourselves without any of the accolades or identity markers we would usually include.
[So my initial response was going to be, “Hi, my name is Estrellx Supernova, I prefer they/them pronouns and these pronouns are non-negotiable. I’m currently living on unceded Tongva territories aka Los Angeles. I am the Cosmic Energetic Orchestrator / Founder of an ecosystem called The Cosmic Angels / The School(s) of Tenderness and am also a choreographer, writer, performer, healer, curator. Most recently, I was awarded a 2020 Creative Capital Grant for a project titled EncuentrX 33: Queer Neurocognitive Architectures Hidden in Plain Site(s) whose timeline I will be stepping into soon. A challenge I have been facing lately has been the perpetual feeling of exhaustion coming from the collective energy along with the puzzle I’ve been trying to crack around my material health and abundance. Something I want to celebrate is having pulled off the first IRL healing-based artist residency I designed called Residencias Rhizomatica (w/ the support of many thought partners including Tossie Long, Megan Kendzior, and Marýa Wethers amongst others) in LA this past January/February. I trusted my gut to follow-through with the IRL vision even in the midst of COVID-19 and trusted the cohort and I would be protected. The cohort who gathered around and felt called in by the theme of inhabiting paradox have become a new expression of home for me. Because of them, I feel more empowered to open my heart, heal my relationship to collaboration, and trust in my capacity to facilitate, communicate, and hold space. The feedback I’ve been receiving has left me feeling in awe, with a heart full of gratitude, that the work I am putting out into the world is needed even in the moments when it has felt like no one is listening. I want to be in this rhizomatic world more and more consistently and unapologetically. This is what I’m co-creating daily. I know another way of being is possible and it requires resources, collaboration, and active divestment from limiting beliefs on all levels, in all dimensions, right here, right now. I am co-creating a space and reality where Black, Indigenous, Queer, Trans, Allied Creatives get to come together to commune, dance, express ourselves on our own terms, inviting in a perpetual state of liberatory and erotic energetics into the center of our hearts. I wish to do this without becoming a martyr, without forgetting my own needs, without making myself small because there is space for all of us simultaneously.”]
[The Koyote version, “I was looking up at the stars one evening and became so moved. Without a doubt in my mind, I could sense that my true home was up there in the cosmos. I texted my friend and told them this and they texted me back with a smiling emoji. ‘And so it is…That is your home,’ they said. I’ve spent a lot of my life thinking that I was broken, fragmented, irreparable because of the trauma I experienced as a child AND because the U.S. never felt like home nor did Guatemala. Now I’m aware that this belief actually benefits the colonial powers, which is shifting something in me. I realize that the medicine of my Ancestors, their presence, blessings, magic is in my DNA, bones, imprinted into me through each inhale and exhale I make therefore I am never disconnected. Even if they kill me, this wisdom and medicinal pattern will move forward into my next manifestation. My Spirit remains untouchable. I am understanding more and more that there are multiple Diasporic lineages that weave through me and I can tap into this multiplicity and create home anywhere I go, anywhere I am called to. Everywhere I go I thrive. Home is emergent, nomadic, effervescent and I experience it in the smiles of strangers, in colors and lighting, in the way food is made with love.”]
Pt. 8 |
When I arrived on Tongva territory for the first time, I was immediately energetically embraced by the land. I had never experienced anything like this before. It felt like warm flashes of joy and iridescent waterfalls moving through my body. Welcome Home! Welcome Home! I had finally arrived.
When I was in Amsterdam this past fall, I asked the Universe for guidance on whether I was meant to stay in the EU or shift elsewhere and like a bolt of lightning Tongva/Los Angeles came through…again. What is it about this landmass that calls me back? What needs to complete itself here in the state of California? Is it my process of rebirth? The West is the site of Death, where the sun sets.
I bring my body to a stillness, with my ear to the ground, listening to what the land has to share with me.
The Earth whispers, “Each of us is specifically designed to activate specific places on the planet. Your mission is to carry forward the frequency of the new paradigm through everything that you do, which is rooted in unconditional love. Your purpose is to be and be free and feel free to move as often as you need. To play, simmer in pleasure, and move towards your full body YES.”
We are either gently moved towards or forced to shift into these locations. The Tower Card is always present with its tough love energy that is guiding us ever so swiftly towards Death and The Star combined. What needs to die in order for you to be reborn? Name it. And let it go. No matter what, we are imbued with agency and power to make choices that bring us into and out of states of alignment, disorientation, and timelines. Getting lost and delayed are inherent to the process and master plan. Choices that bend possibilities and potentialities in and out of focus.
So how do we create home and stability in the midst of so much cataclysmic transformation? How do we create stability when climate crisis, multiple pandemics, and an impending war continue to threaten any notion of stability? What is the direction I / we can always move towards that will never lead me / us astray? How can we think short- and long-term at the same time?
Inward.
Turn to your practices.
Turn to what brings you joy and what makes you feel DELICIOUS.
Turn and face inwards, they say.
WE HAVE TO GO NOW! MOVE!
Move and surrender into the depths of yourself until you are born anew, molded through the power of your vision, distilled into the finest elixir that flows and flows and flows.
Home is a nest that has all of the things I have ever owned, including journal after journal after journal of notes, feelings, emotions that I’ve carried since 2004. Truly, my most prized possessions, some of which I’ll offer to the medicine of the fire.
The Redwoods are the place where I want my ashes laid to rest and isn’t death just another beginning? An energetic exchange between this plane and where we originally come from?
No, but “Where are you really from?”
It was a healing retreat that first brought me out to California, to the Santa Cruz mountains back in 2016, via an organization called Youth for Environmental Sanity (YES!). My life was forever changed, imprinted, awakened. I also fell in love. It’s almost as if the Redwood grove had been waiting for me to arrive. I could tell that sacred magic had happened there prior to my arrival. This retreat marked the very beginning of my turning inwards and facing the parts of myself that I had banned and deemed unworthy of love. The sensation and feeling of exorcizing trauma out of my body during this retreat is one that I’ll never forget, that I’m forever grateful for, and bringing into everything that I do moving forward.
What does it mean for a place to acknowledge and open its arms towards us? What other forms of communication exist and are available to us outside of the verbal-English-dominated paradigm? This is why I continue to be with and integrate movement, choreography, and performance as my mediums for expression and execution of ideas. They are forms that have held me through the hardness and forms that will continue to create space for me to metabolize, grieve, rest, and release.
I am grateful for the sanctuary of the dance studio, my faithful friend and abode. I can stay inside a dance studio forever and speak with the space to see what it needs from me. Dance studio as church, as a clean slate, as club space where I come to surrender and wrestle with whatever is at the surface, with whatever is alive for me in the moment. It is a site of generative dissonance where I can play with plasticity and elasticity and mold myself into whomever I desire, where I can express the things that I’ve silenced, and perform the future in the now. This space is what makes time travel possible. It is a space where I am able to move with various artistic and ancestral lineages all at once.
A fractal within a fractal within a fractal.
An embodied tessellation.
When are we ever not time traveling?
Therefore, I am never alone.
We are never alone.
The Quantum Field embraces, moves through, and witnesses / archives everything.
I’ve been there though. Sunken into the belief that I was destined to be alone. Sinking into that dark abyss where the only person I could scream out for was my mother who was thousands of miles away. I’m certain now that she could hear my cries and was moved to pray for me.
The darkness. This is home too. Because it is through fecundity, that growth makes its way towards the light.
Exchanging
Exchanges
Exchange
The exchange of fluids, of energy, of glances, of the gays and the gaze.
I am at home within my own definition of what it means to be queer, of what it means to be neither from here nor from there, but from BOTH, from the heavens, born out of celestial bodies, because this question of home is like any other question: not meant to be answered immediately. No need to create a chasm where there doesn’t need to be one. No need to buy into the illusion of separation.
Chew on it.
Spit it out.
Let the pieces dry out in the sun and see what new messages arise for you.
What if…
There is nothing to solve.
There is nothing to fix.
It is through compassionate awareness that the patterns and wounds shift.
What makes you angry?
What if anger becomes home?
What if any emotion makes its home inside of you for longer than it needs?
Move slowly.
What have you created an identity around and where is it located in your body?
Who are you when you let those identities and narratives go?
Who taught you to be afraid of your gifts?
Move slowly.
It is time to source the courage and become the person who fully and unapologetically embodies the energy you have been afraid of your entire life.
Move slowly.
Home is created in the moment by those who choose to show up for one another and who decide to use whatever is available to them to create a support system that can withstand any storm.
No need to give any explanation.
You are welcome to come exactly as you are.
To come through and luxuriate in the power of presence, in the power of the breath of life that pulses through each one of us, through the drum beats of the heart.
Thank you, heart. Thank you, heart. Thank you, heart. Thank you, body. Thank you to all of the trillions of cells that comprise my body. Thank you to all of the microorganisms within my microbiome that comprise and inform my intuition, perception, consciousness.
I create a home where it is safe and possible to speak my truth, where it is safe and possible to make love again, where it is safe and possible to dream bigger and bigger knowing, where it is safe and possible to dissent, ask questions, say NO, ask for more time, ask for space, trusting that we all have equal access to this spaciousness.
Space, more space…there is more space in this body.
Space, more space…there is more space in this body.
Space, more space…there is more space in this body.
Let those around you surprise you.
Surprise yourself.
Spit it out!
Choose to react and respond differently.
Take your time.
Let the noise settle.
Let the silence rattle you from within and allow its presence to give way to clarity of direction illuminating where you need to be.
Home is within you.
Home is in the choices you make or don’t make.
Home is the things you didn’t get to say.
Home is wherever you decide to go.
Home is now.
You are never disconnected.
On my 30th birthday, I called my parents and my dad said, “Remember that the only one imposing limitations on you and what you think is possible for your life is you.” My heart cracked open and I have not been the same ever since.
This article appeared in the Spring 2022 issue of In Dance.
