I am a dance teacher, and as a dance
teacher, I spend a significant amount of time thinking about the
human body. Specifically, what is the body saying when it is
dancing. When working with children and pre-teens, the struggle is
often to help the children to develop self-awareness and confidence.
Many approach their dance with eyes cast downward, shoulders rolled
forward, posture being pulled to the earth. My job is to help them
roll their shoulders back, lift their eyes, and direct their posture
and the spirits upward, toward the sky. I play-act sometimes,
dancing a series of steps with a certain body language and asking the
children to tell me what emotion I am portraying. Fearful eyes,
furrowed brow, and sluggish shoulders indicate, “Nervous,” or,
“Scared,” or “Sad.” Bright eyes, slight upward curl of the
lips, tall stance indicate, “Proud,” or “Mischief!” or
“Strong.” Even my youngest dancers begin to understand that how
they carry themselves, how they present themselves in the dance and
in the world, tells people everything they need to know. You're
either open or closed. Warm or cold. Confident or unsure. Joyful
or fearful.
My work in the church – in the wider
Episcopal Church, in the Diocese of Lexington, and through the
ministry of Reading Camp – has given me another lens through which
to view the posture of the human body and the human spirit. In my
lay ministry, I have seen people operate from a posture of openness,
a posture of welcome, a posture of deep and real interest in the
lives of others. As with dance, where I have modeled my own dancing
on the beautiful styles of other dancers, I have endeavored to model
my spiritual and physical postures after these beautiful, warm, and
open people. I watch how they communicate, how they offer welcome,
the grace with which they speak words both easy and difficult. I
have watched how they handle conflict, with a gentle firmness, with
strength, and with conviction.
I have also watched people operate from
postures of skepticism, negativity, gossip, and “grasping.” I
watch them grasp for power and grasp for control. I watch them grasp
with envy for things that belong to others. I watch them grasp for
other people – their reputations, their relationships, their
postures – in attempt to pull them down, to destroy them. It is a
fearful and sad posture these people display. In my mind's eye, I
see them as dancers – as the Rat King in the Nutcracker Ballet, as
Don Dorcha in Lord of the Dance. Characters whose posture indicates
darkness, aggression, a desire to possess what is not rightfully
theirs.
On July 14, 2013, The Very Rev. Ron
Summers, Dean of the Cathedral of St. George at the Cathedral Domain
in Lee County, Kentucky, and Priest-in-Charge at Christ Episcopal
Church in Harlan, Kentucky, joined volunteers at Pine Mountain
Settlement School for our Sunday morning Eucharist to open the week
of Reading Camp. Members of Christ Church joined us, too, for
worship and for lunch. It was a joyful occasion, meaningful in
numerous ways because of the history of Reading Camp, of Christ
Church, and of the Diocese of Lexington. It was meaningful because
we – Reading Camp volunteers, members of Christ Church, and members
of all the churches in the Diocese – have begun to learn how to
live from a posture of openness, welcome, joy, and love. It was not
always this way, and we've not yet gotten it perfect. To use the
dance studio metaphor, I see that we've grown from young children
through the storming of adolescence, and we are perhaps now in our
early teenage years. We have begun to understand that how we present
ourselves, the physical and spiritual posture that we exhibit, tells
the world who we are and what we're about. We've become more
self-aware, seeing how we previously hunched our shoulders, held our
belongings close to our chests, and did not want to share our toys.
We were nervous, untrusting, skeptical. Now through the bumps and
bruises of adolescence, we've learned to dance with our shoulders
back, our eyes lifted, and our hearts open. We have begun to present
something entirely new to those around us. Something warm.
Something welcoming.
Father Ron Summers' sermon focused on
the Parable of the Good Samaritan from Luke 10. It was masterfully
woven and presented to the congregation Three Philosophies of Life:
- What's yours is mine and I'm gonna take it.
- What's mine is mine and I'm gonna keep it.
- What's mine is yours and I'm happy to share it.
As Christians, he said, we are not the
robber in the parable, nor the Levite and the priest, nor even the
Good Samaritan. We are the poor, broken, and bloodied man left to
die by the side of the road, and we have been saved, healed, and
redeemed by Christ. And now, it is our duty to act as Christ to the
world, to save, heal, and redeem all those left poor, broken,
bloodied, and alone. It is our duty to adopt the Third Philosophy of
Life: What's mine is yours and I'm happy to share it.
The Third Philosophy of Life doesn't
come easy; indeed it's a struggle. I would submit, however, that
adopting a physical posture of openness and warmth might help us get
to the spiritual posture of the Third Philosophy. Amy Cuddy gave a
TED talk about the neurological impact of body language. Body
language not only changes how people around you view you, your
motives, and who you are, but body language informs your brain –
your very neurological wiring – about who you are as well. A
closed, fearful, and small body posture not
only tells others that we are scared, feel small, and feel
ineffective, but it tells our brain that too!
An open, joyful, confident body posture not only tells others of our
confidence, but it tells our brains that too.
“Fake it till you make it,” she concludes. Not because it's a
cute and trite saying, but because it is neurologically true. If you
fake it long enough, your brain will start to believe in your
posture, will start to re-route your understanding of yourself. You
will fake it until you become it. Open, warm, welcoming, living out
the Third Philosophy of Life.
What does your body
language say about who you are? More importantly, what does your
body posture tell your spirit to do? Do you inform your spirit that
you are untrusting, scared, and skeptical? Or do you inform your
spirit, by your physicality, of your love, your warmth, your deep
interest in the needs and lives of others? How is your physical
posture wiring your spiritual posture? How is your physical posture
informing your very world view?
Take a moment.
Close your eyes. Think of yourself as a young dancer in a dance
class. Feel your posture grow taller, from the base of your spine
through the top of your head. Feel strength and warmth emanate from
within you. Relax your shoulders and roll them back, opening
yourself. Slightly lift your chin, and feel a small smile creep over
your lips. Find a moment when you felt happiest – the first warm
day of spring, a family gathering, an uplifting conversation – and
meditate on that moment, holding your new posture.
How do you want to
present yourself to the world? And not only to the world – but to
yourself? What kind of person do you want to be? Do you want to
live from a posture of small-ness, fear, and doubt? Or do you want
to live out a posture of openness, joy, curiosity, and confidence?
In the deepest
spiritual and scientific senses, you have the ability to decide.
Your physical posture informs your spiritual/emotional/neurological
posture. And your spiritual/emotional/neurological posture informs
your physical posture and how others perceive you.
How will you live
out the Third Philosophy of Life? What's your posture?
