Spin

Inside the Creation Stories of Dancing Mother

The essential purpose of my movements is to give me new life

by Mother Mother Binahkaye Joy

It has taken me years to find a home in my way of creating, of dancing. I used to feel so awkward in dance classes when I couldn’t follow the choreography or keep up with a basic 8-count. I doubted myself and didn’t feel worthy for a long time to even call myself a dancer.

For me, dance was not ever about solidifying and locking forms into my body. It was constant change, and each moment meant a new movement and expression was possible. I didn’t know how to set that into a choreographic context, and I didn’t know that I didn’t have to either. I felt that the kind of dancing that was most celebrated and validated was nothing like what I felt called to do. And so for much of my youth and early adulthood I exhausted my mind and my heart feeling inferior and inadequate to this illusion of what real dancers were.

It’s been a long and winding journey, overflowing with discovery, experimentation, hilarious and heartbreaking stumbles, epiphanies and beauty too. Now I have truly found a spacious home within myself, an acceptance and understanding of the way I move, create, and share. There is a peace and a rest that comes in knowing oneself, and finding joy and delight in the world that is possible there.

Revisiting a recording in my archive this morning, I heard myself say, “The essential purpose of my movements is to give me new life.” This resonates deeply still. When I dance I am in a continuous space of revival. I am nurturing my fertility. I am recovering my body after hours upon hours of mommy labors. I am dreaming, sensing, praying, communing, calling forth. I am breathing and energizing my spirit for the moments ahead.

On the day the stills for this piece were captured, I was feeling very sad. The swirls of munchkin moments didn’t allow for the quiet space to cry and let it all out. So I found a space where my children could run and play while I danced. I knew I needed to be with trees, and grass, and sun. The wind was also so wonderful and each urgent breeze cleansed something in my heart. I felt lighter after the dance, and my bare feet on the earth seemed to draw in the energy of life with each step. I twisted. I leaped. I shook. I spun. I waved and rolled and kicked and reached. I moved through the tears that never fell, and gave them a way out through my dance. I chose these images for this story because they represent a moment of the dance literally bringing me back to life. I could have stayed in that heavy, dark despairing space. But the dance called me, and I answered.