To dance is my rebellion.
To move this body through time and space,
to move unapologetically, expansively,
refusing to shrink, to be silent, to disappear.
Take up space.
Letting go of what no longer serves me,
While acknowledging the history that this body carries.
MY body speaking truth.
Every moment dancing my body tells a piece of its’ story.
Every moment leading to this moment.
Every memory residing in my soma
Informs this DANCE
Love lives in my heart.
Beat. Pulse. Circulate.
Sadness lives in my bones.
Shake. Break. Collapse.
Anger resides in my muscles.
Clench. Throw. Kick.
Sensuality lives on my skin.
Caress. Glide. Lick.
Pleasure resides in my flesh.
Deny. Feed. Satiate.
The ability to transform lives in this movement.
It is in these moments of awareness, I know I am alive.
So, I keep moving.
Somedays, the only dance I am capable of is breathing.
I have learned that,
Sometimes, the smallest dance makes the biggest difference.
Afterall, raising a finger can be an act of strength & defiance.
Breathing a little deeper, an act of resilience
Curling the lips up to form a smile, an act of bravery
Even in tears, a dance of letting go.
Every movement proclaiming
I am still here.
I am dancing!
Alicia Leigh Hann
Lately, more therapists in my circles who are critical of the Internal Family Systems (IFS) approach to therapy are calling the culture around this method,