As a child, my mother would give me medicine when I fell sick. There was nothing that I detested more than the astringent taste of Swedish Bitters… Yuck! Fast forward 15 years and my lips still pucker at the thought of it. It was uncomfortable. In fact, it was abhorrent... But it worked and I would soon begin to feel better.
I offer this anecdote to illustrate how healing, unlike what we so often see in wellness industry narratives, is not always underpinned by those pleasureful moments of blissful sensuousness. Healing can take the form of being in and with pain. Health is not always a destination. And these wide-ranging, often opposing experiences can co-exist. So, when I offer the statement ‘Dance is Medicine’, I try to speak to much of its complexity. Dance can feel amazing. It can be the joy-filled moments of deep connection when you lose yourself to song. But it can also be clunky, ugly and uncomfortable. Dance can offer a space for grieving and healing generational wounds. And for African American people, like myself, it can assert the body as a site of resistance and a space of ancestral and more-than-human connection.
My research explores dance as medicine through Sensual Dance Meditation, a practice offered by African American sexuality doula and sensualist Ev’Yan Whitney. While dance may, or may not feel like your own medicine, I would like to offer you a tablespoon of movement through this presentation. What I hope flows for you is a connection to your own sensual body; an oozing into the sweet and astringent moments of discovery and interaction that the medicine of dance can offer.