May & June Asides

FROM LEIGHANN: I live here in the Hudson Valley of New York, and am generally a minimalist except in the summers when everything grows so intensely - it feels rather maximalist. I spend a lot of free time weeding, de-vining, and caring for the land I'm lucky to live on, and I can't help but marvel at the connections between the eco-systems of the trees, and our own, amongst humans.

One of the largest plights on the property here has been defending the oak trees from an invasive vine tormenting the northeast. I find this vine to be incredibly smart in the way it spirals and twirls up the branches of the trees, becoming so like it's victim - taking on it's very form, until it is also taking on it's nutrients, sunshine and breath. As I pull these vines, which are often dozens of feet long, out from the trees, I can't help but recognize that I am choosing one life over another. It's strange to have that sort of authority or power, and it feels terribly uncomfortable in that way.

I find such dynamic parallels between the interaction of de-vining an oak tree, and working with humans and their various socializations, muscle memories, and thought pathways. Sometimes it takes ages to slowly untwist a thought (a pattern, a habit, a memory) that has worked it's way into the very core of a being. The vine fights back, it holds on. But slowly, little by little, often with intense care and careful touch, the vine rescinds. It can be challenging to know whether you're dealing with metaphorical vine or oak, especially when they seem inseperable, share a form, and are mutually persistent.

This is commonly the labor of those of us working with Somatic Communication, Relational Intelligence, Contact Improvisation, and the adjacent practices, whether in the field of dance and movement, or well beyond. We choose the labor of pulling the metaphorical vines, often unseen or un-sensed, in the effort to create a better world for ourselves and those around us. The oak is worth defending at the cost of the vine.

Often it feels like the old proverb - like we're planting seeds for shade we'll never feel.

I'll keep planting (and de-vining), if you will!