Dance with Me . . .

5100025281_c125e2c49e_zI think that most of you know that, very soon, I am heading out to Boston to have brain surgery to attempt to remedy my epilepsy. I am very fortunate to have a talented and loving community of teachers to teach and substitute while I’m away, although classes will be more limited, so please be sure and check the schedule every week. I feel incredibly graced to have such a wonderful group of friends/teachers who have agreed to teach while I’m away, and also to have a loving community of students who have been understanding and supportive. I’m convinced that it takes a village to face up to brain surgery . . . Thanks for being my village.
I’m going to write a separate post about this, but one of the things I find myself wanting to do, as I face this surgery, is dance, and dance, and dance. I have loved having the opportunity to do Nia with many of you, and the joy and the freedom of dancing together seems to be keeping me in just the right, hope-filled space, living in the moment of now, that I need to be in to deal with what is coming up. So keep dancing with me while I’m away and send me your good energy!
Another thing I’ve learned a lot about is the incredible power of the stillness that yoga and meditation/prayer have taught me. About a month ago, I had an extensive series of brain scans at the Martinos Center, a research center of the Mass. General Hospital. Turns out I have a strong ability to make my body and mind very still for long periods of time, which makes for great brain scans. It has been interesting to “see” the images of my own meditating mind, and to discuss with researchers and doctors the power of learning stillness and how it does create a different looking brain.
So dance with me, or be still with me, in the weeks ahead. If you want to follow the details of what’s going on, I have another blog, epileptica.com, that is specifically about the surgery. My husband Jonathan as well as myself will be posting about my journey. In the meantime, I am grateful for the presence of all of you in my life, and it is an honor to teach you . . . One that I don’t take for granted.

The “Red” Layer

Friend and yoga student Stephanie Crabtree who is a PhD candidate in Anthropology at WSU, read my post on the naming of KivaSpace, and added the following:  “After reading your description of kivas on your webpage I would like to add that they are not just ceremonial, but functioned as multi-use spaces for not only important religious rituals, but also offered places to get out of the hot sun or the cold winter, to dance (thus many of them have footdrums, like at Aztec) and to reconnect with the ancestors. :)”

I love this.  My vision of the space includes the possibilities of a multi-use space, a space to create community, and (goes without saying), a space to dance!  And a bit ago, as I worked in the space, I had my own personal moment of “reconnecting with ancestors.”

Gladish Community Center used to be the high school in Pullman.  Both of my parents attended high school in this building — it’s where they met and began dating.  In fact, the building is named after the man who was Principal when they were students — Oscar Gladish.  Mr. Gladish loved my mother (she was very bright and very socially active).  He had concerns about my Dad (Also very bright, but only taking band, shop, and typing his Senior Year, and frequently found sneaking out of the band room window to go down and play pool at the City Club — Guess Gladish has always had good windows to climb in and out of!).  So Mr. Gladish would lecture my mother, urging caution about dating and getting serious about that “Zakarison boy.”

Advance forward about twenty some years.  Gladish was turned into one of 2 local middle schools, and it was the one I attended (I can still sing the “Fight Song” . . . just ask!).  The little corner where KivaSpace is now coming to life was the P.E. teacher’s office and girl’s locker room.  As I was working on the space recently, scraping off layers of paint, I hit the “red layer” that you see in the picture.  Bam! I was transported to a memory I must haved buried a looong time ago.  For those of you that don’t know, I have epilepsy, and it turns out I had my very first grand mal seizure in this very same space, then the P.E. teacher’s office.  I had forgotten all about this until I hit the red layer of paint, which figures prominently in my memory as I hit that same paint while hitting the floor during the seizure.

I now have sympathy for that teacher.  Imagine an adolescent girl, walking into your office, telling you that she feels “really weird.”  The teacher suggested that maybe I was about to begin menstruating or having some sort of “personal/emotional issue.”  I then dropped onto her floor and had a seizure.  I remember coming back around, with her demanding that I quit “acting out for attention” and get back into the gym.  I remember being really scared because I felt really strange and I didn’t know what had happened.  And then I tried to walk out of her door, fell over, and got sick on her floor (Yes, the red one!).  She wasn’t pleased, I felt like a freak, and my epilepsy went undiagnosed for five more years.

So now that same space becomes a place for healing.  How’s that for calling up the ancestors and creating a space for loving forgiveness?  Here’s to all your healing journeys.  I hope that KivaSpace will be a part of them.