By Land, Sky & Sea (5 page)

When I was younger, I used to accompany my mother and the musical group she played in (a performing Balinese gamelan, or orchestra) to the Australian Woodford Folk Festival,
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which is held annually the week leading up to New Year’s Day. I used to do a lot of solitary exploring through the festival, as I liked to observe the wild magick of the playful hippies and the different-looking folk who seemed to drink from a wellspring of perpetual happiness. I remember discovering so many hidden dance revels. There were the trancers swaying to the technotastic beats of underground DJs and the wild drum-dance sessions held in the infamous chai tent. Sometimes I just stood at the edges of the crowd, keenly watching the dancers and the dance, but when the mood struck and spirit called, I answered—I let go and let in the gods. Many people call this state of being transcendence, and Yasmine Galenorn has aptly described it as an “out-of-body/in-body” experience. However, what if these extreme expansions of consciousness were meant to happen here, in the now, in the body, with the Goddess—what if these experiences weren’t mystic accidents? Some Witches see the Goddess, the sovereignty that is our Divine Source, as both immanent and transcendent. I have called her the Paradox Woman. Others call her the Dancing Goddess. I think a Goddess who dances is truly balanced within herself. I am honoured to be her child.

The physical act of dancing produces endorphins that, like sex and exercise, stimulate intense feelings of bliss and ecstasy within the body and thus within the spirit. Dance is a way to enlightenment! Consider for a moment the whirling dervishes of the Sufi tradition. Sufis believe (and experience) that their method of dance opens their minds and hearts to Allah (the Great Spirit/Creator). One could choose to see this as the Sufis realising through their rituals that they are no longer dancers, but the dance itself—and what else is the dance but the way of Life, and what is Life but God?

Dance is a sacred art form, and it is also catalytic in helping us to achieve altered states of consciousness through which we may perceive and interact with the Divine. The next time you find yourself surrounded by wild drummers and leaping flames, please remember that the Goddess is dancing, and she is calling to you.

Interview with Kirsty

Kirsty is the founder and artistic director of the Fringe Youth Dance Theatre in Toowoomba, Australia, an edgy, poignant, and highly contemporary group of passionate and invigorating dancers. Kirsty has been a high-school dance teacher for several years now. She describes herself as a “revolutionary with a fated life.”

How did you come to dance? Has it always been an integral part of your life?

If I did not dance, I imagine I would feel emotionally void. I am generally perceived as an introverted person, so when dancing/choreographing, it’s an opportunity for people to see a hint of “me.” It’s the only way I feel best expresses a part of my being that otherwise lies dormant. For most of us, dance is a form of expression; I don’t see myself any different than this, except that instead of the “happiness” of dancing at a club on the weekend, I end up with a plethora of emotions that are channelled through movement.

How does dance define your life?
How do you, in turn, define dance?

Dance is what I know best. It seems to be the first and final thought of most days and encapsulates who I am. As cliché as it may seem, dance and I are inseparable; there is no way to tell where one begins and the other ends. The world of dance tends to be a consuming passion—most probably with many artistic and cultural pursuits. Being ultimately an expression of self, it is often difficult to define yourself without it. This can be a tragic circumstance at times, especially when I find myself hitting a low point artistically; there is no way to separate this moment from everyday life. However, I have never wanted for anything more. As a mother and artist, I find that I am more satisfied with life, and when practicing my art form, I feel most at home.

In your experience, can the act of dancing free the spirit and move the body and mind into different states of consciousness?

I definitely believe this is possible—for some people, that is. No doubt everyone feels good when dancing—natural endorphins are released through the body, as with a gym session, hiking through the great outdoors, or physical intimacy. However, freeing the spirit through movement requires not just a release through the physical but also the mental inhibitions that lock people down. Reflectively speaking, resonating beat clubs or drumming circles, the commonality of people around me, and the willingness to leave imperfection and question behind have always led to moments of liberation. The ability to free the spirit through dance is mostly accessible for those of us who quite simply engage in the moment. Like a surge of adrenalin, the beat and movement characteristically begin rhythmically and repetitively spiralling and surging upwards and outwards of the body, until we experience that undeniable state of ecstasy or happiness.

How do you approach dance? Are there any exercises or rituals you find helpful in focussing the body and the mind?

When I have the opportunity to focus on my body as a dancer, or if I am directing a class into a more inward and centred lesson, we begin with yoga sequences and Pilates stretches to focus on the breath of the body. It is an invaluable process of any lesson to make that connection between our breath and the body’s movement. To further distinguish the core of movement and body, I perform the contemporary techniques of spinal rolls and floor rolls.
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Both of these activities focus on grounding our body weight into the floor. The practices of breathing, centring, and grounding are the impetus for my movement practices, stimulating mind-body control as well as being beneficial for tuning the dancer’s body.

What forms or styles of dance do you find are most effective with trance work, self-hypnosis, and the raising of power?

In dance, we characteristically identify ritual dance through several elements. To mention just a few: simple and repetitive movements, grounded circular patterning, arms raised upwards to the heavens, performing in a sacred place, symbolic gestures and costuming, drumming/bells, and human calls for aural accompaniment. Much in the same way as ritual dance is performed, I see trance work achieving its goal. In no way would the codified steps of ballet, the commercial and competitive nature of hip hop, or even the centred practices of contemporary dance achieve this. Trance work is free from stylized movement. Its most common ally is ritual dance. I most often associate this work with the collective movement rituals at Woodford Folk Festival or the trance dancers in clubs or at doofs.
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The movement elements have a commonality of grounded and repetitive footwork. There is an innate connectedness to the earth. The music and calls form the base of rhythm in the body. As the music builds and layers, so too does the rhythm in the body. We often find ourselves becoming more frenzied, our actions becoming more upright, elevating our body and hands towards the sky. And with this surge of adrenalin, which has been spiralling through the body looking for its exit point, it releases out. We hit that high point of ecstasy; we smile and simultaneously feel interconnected with everything around us.

When you dance, do you become someone or something else, or do you remain completely yourself, if not enhanced?

When dancing, in essence I remain myself. I embody a state of being rather than a character. This may take the form of a memory or emotion. This is what makes my experience and performance unique to me, my students, and my audience. Non-stylised movement is my most favoured form. When dancing at festivals, I best describe it as being the person I actually want to be—happy, free of inhibitions, and connected to the people around me.

To Touch

Love is a verb.

—Unknown

Touch is a sacred art form. It too is an expression of the spirit within, channelled most often through raw passion and sensuality. In itself, touch is a neutral medium for expression—unless, like so many things, it is harnessed to either extreme. It is always important to be ethical and to integrate that wholly into your life.

In my life, the art of touch generally manifests either through my sexuality or the blessed massage (sometimes they meet). My friends and I are generally very candid with each other. We are unashamed of our sexuality, and our sexual experiences form a popular topic of discussion. The act of sex is a sacrament to my goddess Aphrodite (and to so many other love and sex deities) and to the Great Mother herself, who declares that “all acts of love and pleasure are my rituals.” When I have sex and make love, I bless it as a prayer to Aphrodite. With every caress, a soaring syllable of my whispered prayer is sent to the Golden Goddess. This holy act can be reclaimed from the labels of “dirt” and “smut.” I visualise making love as a pouring of the waters of one’s grail into another’s—sharing intimacy is the aim and the journey.

Touch is all-pervasive. It is often noted by many newcomers to Paganism that we Pagans love to hug—and nothing says “I acknowledge and honour the Divine within you” like a well-meant physical embrace. Once perfect trust is attained in a relationship, touch is a tried and true method of creating comfort between people. If applied correctly and with pure intent, touch can help to soothe an upset friend, open channels of communication, excite the senses, and bring healing and wholeness to the body.

I have had several truly intense experiences through sacred touch. One involved massaging a roommate in a share house I used to live in. She was leaning against my body as my legs flanked her torso. I centred and then channelled healing power into her as I massaged her shoulders, neck, arms, and back. After about five or ten minutes of this, we both simultaneously began to breathe raggedly and audibly as if we were having sex! This increased in intensity as my hands continued to work into her flesh, and then hot flushes, followed by cool, relieving sweats swept wave after wave through our bodies. It was as if our flesh had merged together, and the dance of this union had empowered our experience. Another experience that burns brightly in my mind was one of the last devotional circles I had in my garden temple at my mother’s house, before I moved away from home after finishing school. I was meditating, and then suddenly I had the desire to dig a small hole in the soil with my fingers. The whole process felt very sensual to me, and I knew that on some level I was making love with the earth—a beautiful thing!

Pressure Touch

Pressure touch is a technique I learnt while learning contemporary dance in high school. My teacher gave no name to this method; however, I have passed on the technique several times now as “pressure touch,” which describes it rather aptly.

You can practise pressure touch alone or with a partner (or several) and in larger company. In the ritual of land at the summation of this part of the book, I suggest it as the way to cast the circle. There are two principles of pressure touch, and with a bit of obviousness they are “pressure” and “touch.” The individual places their palms on the partner’s (or their own) body and applies a soft pressure, increasing gradually with time. The pressure should never be so intense that it arouses pain; it should only reach a firm level. In terms of where the pressure should be applied on the body, the answer is anywhere and everywhere. Be intuitive! In partner and group work, it is essential to always ascertain what boundaries (if any) there are when it comes to physical touch.

Ground and centre; breathing deeply, begin to channel energy through your flexed palms, and then place them on either your own skin or someone else’s and gradually increase pressure. This is also a useful way to revitalise the body and to cast spells: simply hold strong a particular intent while performing pressure touch. Once again, as with any touch, this technique can border on the sensual and can easily become it if the participants are open to it. Exercise with ethics always.