Word Made Flesh

“Then you turned my despair into a dance – you stripped me of my death shroud and clothed me with joy.” – Psalm 30:11

Your body remembers things that your mind forgets.

This week I started dancing again. I haven’t taken a ballet class in years, and haven’t tried to do any kind of dancing consistently since high school, when I was at the studio 4 to 6 days out of a week, sometimes 7 days a week. I have forgotten the names of my fellow dancers, my teachers, even differences between the types of ballet I studied in elementary, middle, high school. I don’t remember the names of the moves; is it passé or retiré devant? What is sauté, tombé, pas de basque?

But somehow, by thirty minutes into my first ballet class my head is moving unconsciously in the direction of my arms, and when I point my feet I focus on my metatarsals and stretching each one out. I use all the music, drawing out the movements to suspend that moment. My feet do the extra beats in the air even though I can’t remember the names of the steps. I feel when I’m cheating my posture by letting my hips stick out and how to keep my shoulders down even when they’re aching from being moved in old/new ways. I unconsciously attempt double turns because I forget that I haven’t done a true pirouette in years and I used to be able to pull off a triple or a quadruple when I was really ‘on.’ I get dizzy. Lots of hopping and not very much spinning.

My body shape has changed since high school; it’s hard for me to do the things I once could do, or even to attempt them. I’m still young, but I’m not 17 any more, I don’t dance like a 17 year old and I can’t do the things I used to do so effortlessly.

But my body still remembers.

My body remembers the technique and training, my body remembers what it feels like to dance, and my body also remembers the years of things that my soul has seen. The life I’ve lived away from dancing is making my dance more full, more beautiful, a better picture of who Liz has become.

Last fall I met a woman in the ‘Gatch,’ one of the largest brothel neighborhoods in India. This woman works in the sex trade, she sells sex to provide for herself and her family. She is my age. As we sat with Sarah Lance, our Asia Regional Coordinator and Kolkata Field Director, and a few other women, this lady showed me her cell phone, she had lots of pictures on there. I saw her friends, some beautiful saris (Indian dresses), her getting dressed up for a party, and then she showed me a film of herself dancing. In a mini skirt and a tank top this woman danced in front of several men seated on her bed, one of the many ways that she is forced to sell her body each day for money. I felt physically sick as she showed me this video, I had no response, what can you say- “I like to dance too!” ???

One of the things we know in Word Made Flesh is that art is a form of therapy, self-expression, and also advocacy for our friends who are poor. Seeing their art can show us more clearly who they are, away from the labels that we often use for “the poor”, “the abused”, “the homeless,” “the prostitute.” Instead we see names, stories, faces, souls that have seen and experienced a lot, just like you and me. This woman in Kolkata still has me thinking about when forms of self-expression are hurtful, how dancing, which is something so life-giving for me, is a form of abuse in the life of this woman.

I have started dancing because it is a healthy rhythm for me, because I found a ballet studio that is letting me volunteer in exchange for free classes. I dance because I used to be good at it, because I loved it and still love to do it, I dance because it is a time that is just my own, that I don’t have to be available or a right brain thinker and can just be Liz. I also dance for my dream of the day when my friend in Kolkata and all the women in the Gatch don’t dance for anyone else, when they can dance at a party or together in front of the mirror for fun, for joy, and because they no longer have to sell their bodies for sex. Every class I take I still think of this woman and remember her, she is part of what my dance is becoming.

This month Word Made Flesh Kolkata opened the doors of a new business (in addition to the current Sari Bari) in the Gatch, where 22 more women are able to leave the sex trade and make and sell blankets and purses. These women are amazing and so courageous, they are leading all of us into what holistic freedom truly means. Their blankets are works of art, unique and handmade. They sign their art with the tags that I’m including in this letter for you. This tag is the name of one of the women who works at Sari Bari.

I love this tag because Sari Bari is one of the reasons that I came to work at WMF. I’m able to be a tangible part of Sari Bari through assisting the field in some of the behind-the-scenes functions of making Sari Bari possible, and by prayer and advocacy for the women. You’re a part of this work for freedom also through your support of me, of Word Made Flesh, and your prayers.

I hope you will post this tag somewhere and remember to pray for freedom, for joy and for the ability to really dance!

For Joy!

Liz