![]() Writer: Jody T. Morse “Embodying something assures that what you receive is understood in your body, mind, emotions, and spirit.” - Debbie Rosas, Co-Creator of The Nia Technique Seated on the couch, I ran my fingers gently over the cool, maroon leather and inhaled the calming scents of lavender and vanilla. Tears spilled over eyelids and down my cheeks as I gushed to my therapist, “I feel so lost. Like I can’t connect. Something’s missing in my life.” Her initial response was like a soft blanket. “Okay. Good realization, Jody. What else?” “I don’t know. I can’t figure it out. I’m stuck.” More tears flowed, my shoulders sank. Her subsequent response held a bit more force and weight as she more pointedly probed. “What have you given up over the past few years? Is it a person, place, or thing?” As I closed my eyes and relaxed into the moment, the answer became perfectly and instantly clear. What I had lost, what I had given up, what I was missing—was dance. Three years prior to this particular crisis-intervention, my husband and I had bought an incredible 18-acre ranch in the heart of the Sam Houston National Forest, about an hour and a half northeast of downtown Houston. In doing so, much was gained—privacy, communing with nature, space to have horses and expand our dog rescue efforts. But, as well, I had retired from my 25-year careers in dance and fitness. While I’d replaced the creative outlet by launching a career in freelance writing and publishing, this new venture only seemed to be serving my mind and heart; my body had been forgotten, no longer being adequately attending to and encouraged to connect. In the session with my beloved therapist, Dawn, I realized that dance is a 3D therapy—serving and accessing mind, heart, and body; writing was only collaborating with two of the three precious entities. Writing, as much as I loved it, couldn’t replace dance. I needed to find a way back to dancing. Four days after that fateful therapy session, I sat in my favorite Houston coffee shop, EQ Heights, chatting with the current owner of a dance and fitness studio where I’d previously been an instructor. Angela and I chinwagged for almost three hours. With open arms and warm enthusiasm, she welcomed me back into the Studio NiaMoves family. I finally had a plan and a path toward finding my way back to my dance-fitness roots. Fast forward to today. There are a few classes on the studio’s schedule that I lead and a handful of others I attend regularly. While I am shedding some of the physical weight gained over my three-year hiatus and feeling stronger every day, the most significant change has been in my overall connection to self and others. Days are brighter and better when I have dance—and particularly, a dance-fitness class called Nia—in my life. There’s an old adage about not knowing what’s missing until it’s gone. I’m so grateful to have figured out what was missing and committed to never letting it go again. Thank goodness for doors that can be reopened, hearts that can be mended, and dances still left to dance. Author Bio: Jody T. Morse is a dance-fitness instructor at Studio NiaMoves in Houston. In addition, she is a freelance writer and book publisher. Jody has been a student and teacher of Nia and dance-fitness classes for over two decades. Visit Niamoves.com or Facebook (@StudioNiaMoves) for more about the classes she teaches. |
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February 2020
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