Giant Steps

"You need loose stability on the floor." Those are the words of my Afro Contemporary dance instructor during our first class as she led us through movements meant to honor the Orisha Elegua, the deity representing beginnings and endings, road opening— also known as the trickster. When she said the words loose stability they hit the classroom air, and I perked up because they matched something that my improv professor had said just the day before, "in this class, bold agility is the goal." They are speaking to something core to growth and survival, particularly in this current version of the world: grounded flexibility, which ultimately is how we persevere on the known and unknown roads we must all travel on this journey. As we learned the movements that would eventually make up a whole dance in that first class, I kept reminding myself, no matter how uncomfortable I was in the moment, to be loose, bold, and ultimately free. I hadn't been in a dance class in years, and what a miracle it was to witness myself put away the doubts and the voices telling me everything but stay the course and move my body, feeling the music and embracing the lessons of Elegua

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I took this same energy into my improv class, which meets for nearly two hours three times a week. The time commitment is easy enough, but being the oldest student in the room by more than 20 years in most cases had me a bit out of sorts until I heard those magical words: bold agility. As if I had been popped on the head by a stick capable of opening up good sense, I got out of my head and gave into the looseness of getting to learn and play with folks who may be my juniors but who certainly have much to offer to me and one another. Watching us all melt into a crew as we learn the basics of games like I am a Tree, my fears of being the odd one out started to melt away, and bold courage and silliness took their place.

If we can let go of the tightness, the holds, and the fears in that place, we can build muscles that allow us to flow more freely and make the space between our beginning and end a bit easier to survive. If we get really open, we may even thrive.

Elegua and his tricks will always be a part of life, but our gift is in our grounded flexibility. Get loose. Stay bold.