Embodied Transformation

Transformation must be embodied to be real. Any sort of change that is limited only to our minds is unlikely to make any actual difference in the world.

                    

It is perhaps sad but nonetheless true that many, if not most, of us have suffered some sort of bodily trauma in our lives. We carry the remnants of these traumas with us in our bodies—the memories are felt at least as much in our limbs and chests and necks and backs as they are in our minds. And yet we seem to think that we can transform our lives by merely changing our attitude.

Surely our minds and heart must be open in order to be transformed. But just as surely our bodies must practice opening to transformational healing. This practice embraces singing and dancing and playing, running and rolling and ambling, stretching and reaching. If we wish to transform our woundedness, we must find ways to dance with it, and we must let our bodies lead the way.

In the book of Exodus, after the Israelites have escaped Pharaoh's army and crossed the Red Sea, we are told that "Miriam the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a tambourine in her hand; and all the women followed her with tambourines and dances. And Miriam called to them: Sing to God." And the people sang, and they danced.

The Israelites carried with them the many bodily wounds and indignities they had suffered in Egypt. And they began the process of transformation with singing and dancing. It was just the beginning of their journey, to be sure. But Miriam knew that, if they were to have any chance of healing, any chance of transforming their suffering, that the change had to start with their bodies and not just their minds.