Trauma and the Dance

One little known fact about me, is my passion for dance. I grew up doing what was termed ‘creative dance’. I loved movement, challenging my body, trying to do new things, albeit slightly difficult due to being born with my hips twisted. Dance was something that enabled me to express myself. Watching shows like ‘Solid Gold’ or ‘Ready to Roll’ and seeing the latest dance moves, was a quiet passion of mine. I loved it when Mum and Dad would go and milk the cows, and I would turn up my favourite music loud, and dance my brain out!

Then I met a friend who equally, loved to dance! Ah the magic of sharing that passion with someone!! She was far more flexible than me, but she had a way of both challenging and helping me to bust out, as much as my body would take. We often would dance all around high school, and when there was dances, it was nothing for us to be the high kicking sisters of soul!

But then dancing in general, changed. It was less about moving and expressing yourself, and it became more seductive and sexual. I didn’t like that much. The images I saw on tv were less and less desirable for me to mimic, and yet still….still I wanted to dance. Going to nightclubs was my favourite thing, not for the alcohol – which helped with me shyness – but more for the ability to just lose all sense of control on the dance floor and leave it there.

And then something happened. I’m not entirely sure what, but somewhere along the way, through different things I experienced, and traumas that I had to deal with, the dancing stopped.

Becoming a Christian, then moving back home for a while, was wonderful. I would dance and sing on the lawn, and all through the paddocks, until the sun went down. I was dancing and singing for my King. No one else. I was so alive, so fully present, so complete. But then that too stopped. I got married, and then became a Mum, then full time ministry happened. Dancing stopped, and seemed to be frowned upon back in the early 90s. Along with it of course, all secular music left the building, and I became one of ‘those’ Christians who only listened to Christian music, read Christian books, watched Christian tv and movies – I became very dull indeed.

So much of the passion and fire that lighted my soul, remained simmering away, and occasionally a Christian artist would put out a funky song, so that at least the old hips could swing for a few minutes! But then, it would all be put away again until…..Riverdance!

My God! And I really mean My God! When I saw that show on VIDEO, I thought I was going to combust!! I knew I had Irish heritage; and boy I just couldn’t get enough. My girls were kindergarten and school age, so any moment I could, I would put on that video and dance my brain out again 🙂 But the magic appeared, when the segment of Flamenco Dancing started up, courtesy of Maria Pages, a beautiful Spanish dancer. I thought I’d died and gone to Heaven. She twisted, turned, stomped, smiled, looked pained and impassioned, all at the same time – and I had finally seen something that resonated so deep within me, it never left. When I was taken to see the show live, my knees wouldn’t stop shaking. Several of us went to the back of the theatre and busted out!

A number of years later, and more trauma to add to the mix, I found myself wanting to seek out proper Flamenco lessons, here in New Zealand. It was nigh on impossible to find, so I allowed a friend to convince me to join her for Belly Dancing lessons. Turns out I wasn’t so good at rolling that belly, but I sure did try. I so appreciate the form and passion for which they dance, but in the end, it just wasn’t me.

More time passed, and I realised through life and experiences, that I had started to distrust my body. I couldn’t dance, even if I wanted too. I longed to move, I longed to feel that fire, passion, creativity and freedom again, but I just couldn’t express it anymore. I live in suburbia, and I just can’t express myself the way I want or need too. I need open air and space, and that eludes me.

I’ve also come to realise that through different traumas that I have walked through, I have completely lost confidence in my body, and indeed feel like trauma is trapped within me. In my imagination, I am stomping my way through a magic dance routine, but my body just can’t seem to do it right now. I’m not sore or in pain, and age shouldn’t be a factor, but in my mind, I just feel so boxed in and caught in a fishbowl existence, I just can’t seem to conjure anything up regarding movement, now.

Interesting that back in 2019 at the Dead Sea, I was dancing down the hallways, dancing down at the Shabbat celebration, and we even got Neil up dancing away, shaking his hips!

I’m praying that as I identify the traumas and the toll they have taken on me, that Abba Father will allow me to dance before Him again.

But on this side of Heaven 😉

Be Blessed,
Sandi xx

The Scribe & Oracle

Golden quill.

She picks up the golden quill, a mighty theme upon her lips. As she writes the words upon the parchment, she is surprised at the letters forming and flowing so fast. As she utters the sounds of Heaven, all Creation listens: what Decree has the Lord spoken unto His willing Servant and Handmaiden? What mysteries will He expound through her mouth and the quill of her writing instrument?

She stops and waits as she hears the Lover of her Soul, whispering words of passion and grace into her heart. Will she dare write them down, only to be scorned and ridiculed, yet again?

Yes! For her Love has spoken His word into her, and through her this word will become flesh! He has come and dwelt among mere mankind – can you not hear, nor perceive it? Can you not taste and see for indeed, the Lord our God, He is good!

Come to the river and drink of water that you may never thirst again. Come and eat of the bread of life, and behold you will never hunger for mere food again! Come to the waters, replenish your soul. Come to the tree of life and eat – for then your healing shall break forth and your soul shall exalt in the Lord your God!

Come, dance and sing! Lift up your voice! Come magnify the Lord with me! Come, bring your timbres, your harps and your instruments! Come and make a melody, for the Lord is here in our midst!

Come; the Spirit and the Bride, say COME…!!!

Dance of Dawn

 

 

 

A flock of birds fly by at break neck speed as the sound of a car alarm disperse the early morning calm.

Engines humming as boats leave the shore to head out to fish the waters of the Hauraki Gulf.

Large grey cottony clouds hover over the island of Kawau, the whistle and songs of the native birds rousing the melody of the morn.

The occasional seagull dives and squawks as he nears his prey, whilst ducks quack their loud honking call to all who dwell in this fair Bay.

Faint whisps of colour brush the sky with the promise of another glorious sunrise, as shards of firey pink gold peak through on the horizon.

It’s the Dance of Dawn, a scene she has watched hundreds of times from this very spot, a time when majesty and wonder collide to bring forth such promise and mystery to any given day.

Not a chance of accident or evolution;  the morning glory tells the ages past of the ages present and the ages to come.

More shards of firey glory are breaking through as she looks straight ahead and watches in great anticipation.

This dance of hope and wonder, never gets old.

She sits watching as a lone bird flies past the firey scene on it’s way to join it’s friends.  She feels the warmth invade her soul as the peak of the burning sphere rises above the Island.  She covets the residents on that island, watching the sunrise without interruption….

God’s glory rises in her heart….

The wonder of a new day….

A mystery to unfold….

Not rules and principles to govern this soul, but movement – grace and hope wrapped in this ball of light.

The silence of this moment is interrupted by the sounds of vehicles revving;  the golden glow spreads like magic thoughout the sky.

She glimpses it’s reflection in her own golden hair.  Grace upon grace enfolds her heart as love awakens the Dawn.

Clouds part as shards of light disperse and the morning song becomes a crescendo of melodies calling from Heaven.

Relections of gold shimmer and dance on the water as this autumn day beckons her to the fro.

A row of trees on the island look like they’re dancing in front of a seductive camp fire…

The sun peaks out and bounces off her page as she writes.  Ahhh, the warmth of the sun, the golden glimpses that enrapture her imagination.

A snapshot forms in her mind, to go with all the other hundreds of snapshots she has taken of this wonderous moment.

For a brief time other island in the Gulf come into view, bathed in this glorious light.  Ah such awe inspiring visions of love, sent from the Father of lights, to garner our day and show His great pleasure in us.  We, He, I.

The Great  Unfolding timeless mystery of Sunrise.

 

Photos and writing copyrighted by Sandi Wilson 2019.