Moving Consciously: Somatic Transformations through Dance, Yoga, and Touch

Somatics, as I often introduce it to students, is an awareness of the body as perceived by the self in this present moment. It hinges on proprioception through sensory motor awareness, internal dialogue, and the patience to abandon oneself to the present moment. One will not have the same sensations in an hour from now, this evening, tomorrow, or e

Kinesthetic processes take place in gross motor activities, but they flourish especially in slow,

Self Comes to Mind: Constructing the Conscious Brain (2012), Damasio shows how images, both abstract and concrete, are “the main currency of our minds.”14 In this, he associates images and minded awareness. Mind is more than the ability to think in words; it is also the ability to imagine and create images of all kinds in tandem with bodily knowled

process can exist with or without product.

and yoga, as also in games and sports, are part of a powerful loop of intention and perception. Movement is not something we do nearly so much as what we are, and harbinger to what we can become.

In dance conceived somatically, we can excavate body memories and possible selves. This is so precisely because somatic conceptions of dance concentrate on what the mover is experiencing, rather than on impressing an audience. The attitude and focus of the performer is key. Thus any form of dance might be conceived with first-person attention to th

Dance is for all who desire to move expressively, with rhythm, or in the spirit of the moment. Dance is global and primal, not just for those who train to perform on stage. As somatic innovator Gabrielle Roth liked to say: “If you have a body, you are a dancer.”

I also know that I am doing this for love of the activity—or stated more objectively—for autotelic reasons internal to the process. Somatic studies emphasize autotelic purposes—doing something for its own sake, as in yoga and Zen where all work is seen as equal. In these perspectives as in somatic processes, we work not toward a particular end, but

What is the story you always tell about yourself? Can you tell it one last time?