Through dance, the self-world dichotomy is able to be dissipated. When we move, we might ask ourselves the question: where does this movement come from?
It is an impossible task to locate the source of movement, to locate what inspires us to move in a specific way, or even to locate the reasons underpinning our physical capabilities. Ultimately, our physical body – the form that we take, and the ability we have to move our form in a specific way – is the product of chance. By chance, we embody certain characteristics; the lottery of birth predicates this for us, as do the string of events that lead to so-called ‘decisions’ (or non-decisions) that consequence our physical composition. Similarly, the way in which we move, is influenced by so many variables: other peoples’ movement that we’ve been exposed to, music – if it is present, the environment, our own physical training. Our movement then, our dance – really is ours, it is not mine or yours, but ours.
When I am dancing alone, then, it is not me dancing. It is a dance of the universe – a dance of you, and of me, and of us, and of everything that might exist in a moment of time. It is raw, it is true.
And it is is why I so deeply am in love with dance.