Force and Flow

Category: Energy Work

  • Dance Improvisation: Connecting to Source through Magical Arteries

    Dance Improvisation: Connecting to Source through Magical Arteries

    This weekend I’ll be teaching my first workshop in NYC of 2018,

    Connected to Source: Deep Listening & Freedom of Expression through Dance Improvisation.

    And for the first time in the three years since I moved away from NYC, I feel really excited and energized to be heading in to share my work in the city. As in, not secretly dreading or deliberately avoiding NYC (a la 2016 & 2017), but sincerely looking forward to working and playing there.

    Why? Because I know it won’t suck me dry.

    I know that even with all the crazy paced running around to get anywhere, the dulling sea of myopic gazes and the drowning noise of lights and sounds and advertisements, I’ll be shining on. That is to say, I don’t expect to be leaking too much energy.

    Not too much. Maybe just a little, because there’s no use wasting as much on the effort of guarding it in as I would on letting it out. Some energy out means space for energy in after all, and strict orthodoxy of any kind is a dangerous form of militarism in today’s world. But even with those little leaks, I’ll be motoring through the streets to teach my workshop, dropping in on favorite classes and jams and reconnecting with dear friends fueled by confidence that the energy balance is in my favor.

    It’s not my clairvoyance I’m relying on to know that, unlike the past, this time I’ll be coming home with more energy than I expended…

    Wasting clairvoyance on seeing into the future and holding on to a specific image of how things will be is a surefire way to cut yourself  off from your creative energy.

    I have no idea if things, and the workshop especially, will go well. People, the studio, and even material I’m sharing will be new, so lots of unknowns await. And I’m not relying on a game of low expectations to keep my balance and protect me from the drain of disappointment. I have a fair share of expectations, but they’re not really about outcome, they’re about what I’ll treat my life force to: surprise, stimulation, intimacy and perspective.

    In part, I can be sure that I’m in a very different place because I gave myself the time and space to fully integrate a deep transition.

    When I closed my beautiful Brooklyn studio 3 years ago and moved upstate to Newburgh, it felt like a free fall at times. But I was aching to be more fully invested in my art work, dance improvisation at its core, and walking my holistic talk was motivating me to find a more quiet and balanced life. Permission to do less and observe more helped facilitate a seismic shift in my inner world.

    Now that I’m easing back into doing more, the quality of my doing is very different.

    Still, my confidence in riding the energy of the city with mastery and grace is not so much about the past or the future. It’s about what I know I can do in the moment.

    This is what dance improvisation is all about, and this is what it’s taught me about myself:

    I know I can keep myself grounded. And balanced. I can find great pleasure in falling and satisfaction in resistance. I know I can soften in an instant to avoid a hard blow… or to welcome a warm embrace. That I can articulate what I feel with great clarity and bring a sharp focus to the small details splitting my attention. I’ve learned I can release a thought or a plan that’s weighing me down and catch inspiration from a random sideways glance. And that I can listen with patience and curiosity to the subtle shifts of my energy and take a pause when I need, or even pause just because.

    To pause in NYC! And just because, no less!

    If that’s not art, it’s sorcery. Or rather, Sourcery: because doing it on a whim comes from a deep connection to the inner flow of your impulse, blood and breath. It’s Artery too! Because cultivating your pathways to that deep connection is a matter of artful craftsmanship, fueled by passion and imagination and informed by patience and technique.

    Dance improvisation is the practice of cultivating arteries to your life force.

    It is a magical, powerful craft that teaches you to connect to the deepest sources of your energy. You can use it to create art if that’s your thing. You can use it to create more healthy resilience to your every day if that’s what you need…

    And once you’ve experienced the connection and know how to get there again and again, you have much more agency to actively and consciously choose how you use your energy. That in itself is an act of great resistance and activism in the demented political climate we’re living in. Add that to healthy resilience and creative flow and watch things change.

    There you have it: to be Connected to Source through the magic Arteries of Dance Improvisation – that’s our destination for this weekend’s workshop. Details and RSVP below – check it out and join us on the adventure!

    Here are the details:

    Connected to Source
    Deep Listening & Freedom of Expression through Dance Improvisation

    Sunday, March 18

    1 – 3 PM

    CRS (Center for Remembering & Sharing)
    White Room
    124 4th Avenue, New York, New York 10003

    *A Fundraiser to Support The Dragon’s Egg Artist Retreat Center*
    $30 Suggested Donation (all proceeds go to The Dragon’s Egg)
    RSVP to attend forthedragonsegg@gmail.com

    Workshop led by Ophra Wolf from Force and Flow Integrated Bodywork

    Dance improvisation can be one of the most direct and profound ways to communicate with your soul and give expression to the subtle movements of your heart. When you’re able to drop down into a deep state of listening and connection with the very source of what moves you, you experience a sense of freedom and innate knowing that will fuel every aspect of your life.

    In this 2-hour introductory workshop we’ll explore pathways for entering this state of deep listening and embodied awareness, and draw on knowledge and techniques from the worlds of Qi Gong, bodywork, authentic movement, and Tuning Scores. Expect to move energy, find new possibilities for expression and discover thrilling satisfaction in free and mindful movement.

    Open to all levels and backgrounds – whether you’re a dancer, a creative from another field, or simply someone who’s ready to move more freely, there will be treasures waiting for you. Bring comfortable clothes to move in, water, and a notebook.

    PHOTO CREDIT: CRAIG CHIN

  • Coming Out of the Closet

    I sent this (love) letter to my mailing list the other day and I’m sharing it with my blog readers now – I haven’t been doing much blogging lately and this will reveal a little of the “why”. The tide is turning and there are lots of blog posts coming up, but if you want to get the best of my insights and tips, make sure sure to subscribe to the newsletter – use the form above or to your left!

     

    Coming out of the closet is much harder than I imagined…

    Performing with Evan Hugh Worldwind & Kevin Nathaniel (AKA The Peace Department) at The Healing Arts Garden Event in Philly, 8/23/14
    Performing with Evan Hugh Worldwind & Kevin Nathaniel (AKA The Peace Department) at The Healing Arts Garden Event in Philly, 8/23/14

    When I was a little girl living in Israel, I used to wake up early in the morning and hide in the closet and play make-believe for hours on end. In the dark closet, while my brother and parents were sleeping, I could be anyone and do anything I dreamed. I was powerful and beautiful, gracious and brilliant – all at once!

    I’ve held on to so many of my dreams – my business and art are my testament. But I’ve often lived my life as if my powers and passions were safer in the closet. Fear of being seen has frequently terrorized me, which is strange considering the extraordinary lengths I’ve gone to embody my potential and uncover the brilliance within.

    Strange but not unusual.

    What is unusual is how much freedom and privilege I’ve had to follow my dreams and give voice to my truth. Especially unusual considering that I’m a woman. A Jewish woman. Israeli born. Of North African descent.

    And a dancer, a woman dancer who’s chosen to live fully in her body in a world that still behaves as if intelligence belongs solely in the cognitive functions of the brain and treats the body as territory to be conquered. And an improviser at that, who’s chosen participation in the mysteries of the moment over the stature of recognized knowledge and forms.

    A healer, too.

    Believe it or not, naming that is the scariest part of coming out of the closet!

    See, I grew up with a scientist for a father and scientific materialism as the reigning ideology of my times. My mother was a self-identified modern woman, who’d worked hard to distance herself from the “primitive” past of her Moroccan family, once well known and respected in Fez precisely because my great-grandmother was a powerful healer in service of the king. The gifts and talents that make me a healer weren’t always ones I knew how to appreciate.

    It’s true that people – maybe even you – have increasingly referred to me as a healer for years now, but I’ve rarely called myself one for fear of…

    It doesn’t matter. What I mean is, Enough With The Fear!!!

    This summer took me to the Sierra Contact Festival, where I taught a workshop and spent a week in the beautiful nature of the high Sierra's with amazing colleagues.
    This summer took me to the Sierra Contact Festival, where I taught a workshop and spent a week in the beautiful nature of the high Sierra’s with amazing colleagues.

    It’s killing us and blinding us from the immense healing powers of empathy and love. One look at the part of the world I hail from will suffice to prove my point. Which isn’t to say our fears – personal, cultural and global – are unfounded, or that our experience of them isn’t intensely real, but true courage and novel solutions are born of empathy and love.

    Empathy for myself hasn’t always been easy to come by, and lack of it has kept me in the closet far longer than I intended. The love in my life – from my friends, family, clients and especially from my main man Marcel – has increasingly given me the courage to make my way out into the world.

    It’s time for me to start giving and participating more fully.

    And that’s what this new newsletter is all about. It’s my way of sharing my expertise, insights and offerings with you, friends.

    Which is why I’d love to hear from you about what topics in the world of holistic health and embodied wellness are important to you to learn more about? Consider me a resource, at your service and gratefully so!

    And make sure to check out the opportunity to get one of the last spots for the Fall RELAXED Strength & POWERFUL Alignment 90-Day Semi-Private Session – we start the week of September 15 and if you’re looking to integrate a sustainable and consistent approach to health for your body, mind and spirit, you don’t want to miss out on this.

    Love,
    Ophra

  • Did I stop your train?

    Monday night I was on the A train around 8:30PM, coming back from rehearsal with Antititled, when a young man pulled his girlfriend near where I was sitting.

    I mean pulled forcefully.

    He was standing right in front of me now, shifting nervously and mumbling about what he needed to smoke to calm down, she was hardly breathing, holding back tears. When the two seats next to me cleared out, he grabbed her wrist and practically threw her into the seat. When she tried to get up, he blocked her and then sat in the seat between us and made sure she didn’t move. She sat still, the tears came to her eyes.

    I thought for a moment about what to do and decided to stand up.

    Being on the Grand Jury earlier this year brought home for me the extent to which the simple physical actions of raising our hand and standing up for something, or not raising our hand and not standing up for something, can have a very real and tangible effect on people’s lives. For those of you who know me well, it will come as no surprise that this was a moment in which I felt called to stand up.

    As soon as I did, a young woman from across the way motioned to me – did I see what was going on?! We have to tell someone! What should we do? She was whispering anxiously, terrified by premonitions of what awaited the captive woman.

    The subway car was full mind you, plenty of others were seeing what was happening, but in our typical worn-out and violence-weary New York way, we were working hard not to see. As if blindness could excuse us from making an effort. I do this all the time. This time I didn’t, maybe because it was so close to me and maybe because I felt that I actually had the energy to make an effort. After all, cultivating energy is what my work at Force and Flow is about, and using that energy well is my highest prerogative.

    I don’t know what to do, I confessed to the concerned woman, who I later found out was a young grad student from Ethiopia, recently arrived to NYC via Kansas. But I’m going to stand close to them so I can keep an eye, and if they leave the train I may follow and get some help.

    I’ll come with you when you get off, she said, and we reached our hands out and held them for a moment, two strangers sealing a pact.

    Here’s where knowing how to stand comes in handy, because other than standing I really didn’t know what to do. The bench where the couple sat happened to be at the end of the car, and the woman was pinched right into the corner. I stood against the back door, feet grounded, weight centered, body relaxed and at a slightly open angle to them. There was nothing threatening in my posture, but there was no doubt that I was there with them, aware and present to the situation. When the young woman leaned over to cover her eyes and start crying again, her head practically fell into my hand and I instinctively touched it lightly and asked her if she was ok?

    She looked at me through heavily made up eyes and said, Oh, um, I’m just having allergies. I kept eye contact with her, didn’t say a word, just shook my head very slightly: no, that’s not it. Almost immediately, the man grabbed her again and pulled her out of the seat and away from me, muttering something or other. I touched the woman’s arm lightly as it flew past me and asked her again, are you ok?

    When the man turned to me and started barking that’s she’s fine and to mind my own f-ing business, I admit my heart started racing. But I know how to stand, so I stood. This is what I train my body for these days – not just for muscular strength, but for the strength to stay soft, focused and grounded in an emergency. For the ability to calm my breath and my heart down, and for the power that comes from feeling my feet on the ground.

    I do this because I’m under the impression that in the big picture, we’re in an emergency and this is the kind of strength we need in order to take it on: calm, focused, loving. But Monday night brought an emergency into the small picture of my day, and when my heart started racing I knew how to stay relaxed and say to the young man with my body language, I’m not here to attack you, but I won’t be averting my gaze.

    When the train stopped at Nostrand a few seconds later, the young man said let’s go and grabbed the woman by the wrist to exit. I followed, because this was my stop and because frankly I was afraid for the woman and what would happen to her when no one was looking. I wanted to keep looking as long as possible.

    The grad student from across the way also came out, and we made eye contact and checked to see where the couple was going and if there was someone to turn to for help. They were moving awkwardly and as the train was about to leave he grabbed the young woman and pulled her into the next car just as the doors were closing, leaving us in the station with no attendant or police officer in sight. My new friend started bawling. I wrapped my arm around her and we walked up to the street, looking for a cop: none in sight.

    We have to call 911, she said through the tears, we have to call 911!!! So I did.

    911 picked up right away, in less than one ring, and for this I am incredibly grateful. For someone who has spent most of their lives outside of “the system”, it was a reminder of how lucky I am to live in a time and place where there is someone to call when I see a potentially dangerous situation, where the phone is answered right away, where the police arrive almost immediately to help: not every city in the world has their act together to this extent, you know? And there are plenty of places in the world where what we saw happening is not only commonplace, but culturally condoned, so that the fact that the police were ready to stop a whole train of people in order to intervene is, as far as I’m concerned, on the scale of miracle.

    Please forgive me if you were on that train, I would have been cursing too if it were me stuck in the station at the end of a long, cold day. But as a woman, I’d be contributing to a much bigger and older curse if I pretended that I didn’t see what was going on and at least try to do something about it.

    Because I’d been able to stay calm and grounded, I had the wherewithal to get the train number as it was pulling out. I gave it to the 911 operator right away and she was able to get the train stopped as it arrived at its next station. Between my new friend and I, we were able to provide a slew of identifying details, including which car the couple went into, what they were wearing and how they were moving. Two officers met us on the corner of Nostrand and Fulton almost as soon as I got off the call, checking to see if we were OK and asking for any other details. When they left I helped my friend figure out how to get back to the Pratt housing – she was farther into Brooklyn than she’d ever been and still terrorized by thoughts of ‘what if’. Then I walked home the same way I always do.

    I don’t know if there’s a happy ending. Even if the police were able to intervene and help the woman go her own way that night, I can’t stop her from going back to that or any other abusive man. And there are plenty of other women in similar or worse situations. But I admit that I went to sleep feeling good and incredibly grateful that night – for my new friend who reached out and helped me stand up for what I believe in, for the NYPD and the system that brought them to my assistance so quickly, and for the practices I have that help me cultivate and apply my energy to the things I believe in, no matter how unknown or threatening they may seem.