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Authentic Movement The discipline of Authentic Movement also offers a way to enter into direct experience. Authentic Movement was originally developed by pioneer dance therapist Mary Starks Whitehouse during the 1950’s and 1960’s. Mary studied and was deeply influenced by Jungian thought, and originally called her work active imagination in movement, or movement in depth. Janet Adler, one of Whitehouse’s foremost students, has further explored the relationship between mover and witness, and the mystical dimensions of this discipline (Pallaro, 1999). Authentic Movement offers a simple form within which a mover and a witness engage together on a journey of uncovering a clear and compassionate place within themselves. The ground form involves one mover and one witness, although Authentic Movement can also be practised within a group, with either one or a circle of several witnesses being present for a group of movers. The witness ‘holds’ the space, the safe container, into which the mover goes, eyes closed; within the sacred space of the witness circle, the mover invites the unconscious to speak through movement and stillness. The mover attends to inner sensations, feelings, images, and movement impulses, listening and waiting for each impulse, allowing them to come into form through movement. The body, in its wisdom, tells the story needing to be told at this very moment. Memories, dream images, deep feelings, archetypal energies, ancient knowledge, ritual, song, play, laughter or tears, and healing moments may be evoked and find expression through the movement. It is the witness’s embodied presence which enables the mover to surrender to the ongoing flow of information from the unconscious. Thus the body becomes conscious. After the movement has ended, both mover and witness share their experience. Making conscious what was unconscious enables the mover to embrace lost or hidden aspects of himself. The witness pays attention to the sensations, feelings, memories, and images evoked in her by the presence of the mover, and learns to recognise and own her projections, interpretations, and judgments. As witness, we seek to see the mover clearly, and as we do so, we find we also come to see ourself more clearly. The longing to be seen clearly by another transforms into the longing to see another clearly. At times mover and witness meet in moments of what Janet Adler calls unitive experience, as the internal witness within each person evolves. The Experience of the Mover Entering the empty circle as a mover, turning our attention inwards, we are generally confronted first of all with the subterranean gossip of the fifth skandha, erupting now and then in specific thought patterns or emotions. So long as we continue with this mental chatter, we will miss this unique moment - the shape the body makes as it stretches out along the ground; the smooth, cool texture of the floor; the gentle rise and fall of the belly as the body breathes; sunlight penetrating closed eyelids; a sudden soft breeze from an open window brushing the side of the face. If - instead of rolling the head to the side to greet breeze and light, spreading the hand to feel more clearly the smoothness of the wooden floor, arching the spine to acknowledge the fullness of breath filling belly and chest - we continue to mull over the conversation we had three hours ago, and plan what we will cook tonight, we miss the magic and simplicity of the moment. By retreating into a non-existent past and future, we lose the direct experience of now. But if we pay attention to those emerging movements and allow them space to develop, we engage with the uniqueness of the moment, and discover what the bodymind is truly experiencing. When we follow these small movements, letting each movement and each moment flow into the next, without holding on or pushing away, we may be surprised by an unconscious, unintended impulse which moves us from deep within. The unconscious meets the reality of the body ego, and a dialogue, a mutual education and integration, can occur (Chodorow, 1991). Through this practice of embodying, accepting, and allowing the process to unfold, we invite the possibility of transformation. Often I hear students describe how they enter into the movement experience believing they feel one thing, but as they follow their moment-by-moment experience, they realise something completely different is actually going on. Where we believed we were stuck in a vague feeling of discontent, we find that, by moving from our inner impulses, from the deeper self, we can transform that feeling and belief through a direct experience of spaciousness, or physical strength, or tenderness, or clean cutting anger. A woman described how she believed she was not strong enough to stand on her own, but by embodying in movement her process as it evolved, moment-by-moment, she found that she did in fact have the resources to stand alone, and could change her belief system as a result of this direct, embodied experience. The Art of Witnessing Witnessing another’s movement is a discipline which requires much practice; like meditation, it might take a lifetime and more to perfect. But we try our best to witness clearly, with compassion and acceptance, and in so doing we gradually develop the ability to be present, in the moment, experiencing the moment directly, as it happens, without preconceptions and expectations, judgments, projections, or interpretations. We do this by learning to recognise and own our projections, judgments, and interpretations. Many people, when they first experience the discipline of witnessing Authentic Movement, are shocked at the extent to which they judge, project into, and interpret the other’s experience. It is important to accept that we all do this, most of the time; this is how we relate to each other and our world, and also how we learn to see ourselves more clearly. It is the natural way of ego development, and the process of the five skandhas at work, to make projections, judgments, and interpretations. It may also be a learnt skill of a therapist to make interpretations and judgments, based on a particular belief system and theory. So first of all the witness must learn to have compassion for herself, not to judge herself too harshly for judging others, for we cannot learn to accept others if we cannot accept ourselves. Then she learns how to speak about her experience in a way that gives the mover space and freedom to acknowledge his own truth. The way we give language to our experience is crucial in this discipline; the witness seeks to speak about her own direct experience, not impose her experience onto the mover as if it were the mover’s truth. We may speak about our responses to the mover, but we own them as our own. For example, it can make a big difference to the mover whether he hears his witness say ‘you look sad’, rather than ‘I feel the wish to comfort you’; or ‘I see you stamp your foot and I think you must be angry’, rather than ‘I see you stamp your foot and my spine straightens, my hands clench, and I feel alert, expectant’.The first statement compresses space; the second opens and expands space. As witness, I seek to give my fullest possible attention to the mover, as far as I am able. I track the actual movements that are made; this is important, as the body is the basis of the process, and for material to be integrated the process must be first embodied, then remembered. I also pay attention to any sensations that may be evoked in me in the presence of the mover; proprioceptive or kinesthetic experiences within my own body, or sensory perceptions of space, light, sound, weight, and so on may all be included. An image might arise in my mind, or I might perceive a story unfolding as I witness the movement. All of these are acknowledged as my own experiences. Sometimes, as witness, I may have an emotional response to the mover; I may feel fear, tenderness, compassion, anger, joy, and so on. Throughout all of this I try not to jump to hasty judgments, projecting my responses onto the mover, but give myself the space to feel each experience directly, as my own. As with the dismantling of sequences of skandha activity in meditation, I seek to simply let each experience be, in its own place, with its own intrinsic significance, without elaborating a mountain of interpretations and beliefs about it. Thoughts will arise; memories, associations, and insights will emerge. I simply let them be, and keep returning my attention to my body, my sensations, feelings, and the images evoked in the presence of the mover. Click here to continue reading |
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continued … An Enquiry into Direct Experience |
