Dancing with your Skeletons: Healing through Dance

by Senta Duffield

Overview

Dance healing is available to everyone!

Without even stepping into a dance class, you have access to one of the most powerful healing modalities and can benefit from the profound joy, strength, grace, and love that dance offers you!

We all have a skeleton in our closet, something that we have done or that has happened to us that has made our lives difficult, has caused us pain, and has left physical, mental, and emotional scars. Imagine the possibilities when you learn to dance with your skeletons and ultimately heal them in such a way that you will never put them back in the closet again! Dancing with Your Skeletons is a three-part book offering you three separate ways to experience dance healing. The book as a whole can also be an amazing tool to gently and easily facilitate dance healing in your own life.

Every dance begins with one step. Reading this book is your first step in a new, beautiful, and exciting dance.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781504346634
Publisher:	Balboa Press
Publication date:	01/12/2016
Pages:	144
Product dimensions:	5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x 0.31(d)

Read an Excerpt

Dancing With Your Skeletons

Healing Through Dance

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By Senta Duffield

Balboa Press

Copyright © 2016 Senta Duffield
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-5043-4663-4

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CHAPTER 1

Senta's Story

Dancing has always been an important part of my life, dancing, watching dancing, or desperately wanting to dance. When I look back at my nearly four decades of life, it is very clear that the times when I could and did dance were the happiest and most successful, and the times that I didn't dance were heavy, broken and very disconnected from my soul and life journey.

I grew up on a farm ten minutes outside a village, called Wartburg, in KwaZulu-Natal, South Africa. Wartburg was founded by German missionaries in the 1800's and is still very German in language and tradition today. My childhood was filled with happy memories of farm life; working with my dad on the farm taught me discipline, to be a hard worker like him, and of course to be an early riser. My mum, an English-speaking teacher from Durban, married my father, a German farmer. She stopped teaching home economics to be a farmer's wife, doing the farm books and taking care of their three children, of which I am the oldest.

Living in a small village meant that we missed out on many of the opportunities that city children had in terms of dance, sports and other activities that we could learn. But my mum made sure that we took every opportunity that we could. She immersed herself in the community and encouraged us to do the same, and if we wanted to do something not available in Wartburg, she would drive us to Pietermaritzburg, or take us to visit our gran in Durban, so that we could still experience as much as possible.

Although we had slim pickings of extra activities in Wartburg, we did have one gold mine, my utopia, my magical, special place: ballet classes with Mrs Palmer. I still get a mixture of excited butterflies and an absolute sense of calm and peace as I remember Mrs Palmer's ballet class. Mrs Palmer was an ethereal being, who was gentle, soft and graceful in all her movements. I aspired to walk and have a posture like hers.

Although my childhood home life was very happy, my school life was not so enjoyable. I was shy and struggled with a sense of not knowing where I belonged. There were two very distinct groups at the school: the English-speaking kids and the German-speaking kids. Although we spoke more English as a family, I did speak both, and with one side of my parentage giving me a foot in each group, I felt blessed. I thought I could enjoy friendships on both sides, but it sadly didn't work out like that. Children can be cruel and I quickly learnt that humans do not always act from a place of love as I expected them to do. I have always trusted too much in love, trying to prove my early experiences wrong and mostly to my detriment. The English kids, whose classes I shared, teased me about being German and having a German name, and excluded me. So I went to the German kids to try and befriend them, but I was too English to be included in their group. And so school became very lonely for me. I clearly remember the heartache of having hardly any friends.

This is the first time that dance and dance healing helped me. Mrs Palmer's ballet classes gave me a safe place, a place I could be myself exactly as I was – Ballet didn't mind if I was English or German, Ballet embraced all of me and spun me into a world of magic and beauty. I danced three afternoons a week, running across the road after school to get to the Agricultural Hall, eager to put on my ballet shoes and pink leotard and to let dance envelope me and heal my little broken heart. I danced from age four to age twelve and loved every minute of it. My gran would take me to live ballet shows at the Playhouse theatre in Durban during my school holidays; these were some of the greatest joys in my childhood, and I longed to be up on that big stage performing with the dancers.

Other than my inability to have friends, my primary school life was good and I achieved good marks. I was made a prefect, and I excelled in swimming as a sport. All this changed in high school. I chose to go to boarding school, and I chose Deutshe Schule Hermannsburg, which was even more German than Wartburg, and in an even smaller village. I think at the time my priority was getting myself to another school, for a new opportunity to make friends, and making myself even more German. I don't remember consciously choosing German over English, but I must have somehow felt it would help me to be more one than the other. I liked being at boarding school, and I did make some friends there, but I had to give up my beloved ballet. There were no Cecchetti ballet classes anywhere near the school, and there was no way to get there, even if any had been available. So I sacrificed my ballet in order to go to boarding school.

If I had known at the time how integral dance was in my life, I might have chosen differently. Without ballet my life fell apart. My academic results dropped tremendously until I was barely passing. I developed asthma, I was awful at sports, I put on weight, and my self-esteem dropped even further. I firmly believe that if I had still been dancing and receiving healing from dancing, my high school life would have turned out quite the opposite.

After school, I moved to Durban to study public relations and tourism, and dance entered my life once more. I had a lively, fun group of friends, and we would often dance late into the night in nightclubs. We weren't big drinkers; we just loved to spend hours on the dance floor! Although not stylised technical dancing, it was dancing, and my life seemed to come right again. I was bubbly, positive and outgoing with a wonderful group of friends!

Two years later, I travelled to Australia and spent eight months living and travelling there. I really did enjoy my time there and grew and matured so much, but toward the end of my trip I lost everything. In one horrific moment my trusting, gentle soul saw how truly ugly and nasty a human being could be and I was so disappointed and crushed. I was raped. I was raped by a man I had just met on an organised tour in Western Australia. If the rape itself was not enough, I can still remember the words that wrecked my life and left me completely desolate: "That will teach you for being so bubbly."

I remember finding my way to my room, and climbing into a very hot bath, desperate to wash myself. I remember sitting in the bath for hours as the water cooled, and realising that I could do nothing about this. I was twenty years old in a country by myself, on the opposite end to any family or friends. Sex was happening all around me on this tour, along with a lot of drinking and partying. Nobody would believe me if I said I was raped, and I didn't have the strength to make them believe me. So I told myself to go to bed and get over it.

I came home and continued with my life, but I struggled. I went through stages of being angry with everyone around me, and I withdrew and pushed my family and friends away from me. About six months later I realised I was falling apart from the inner turmoil I was experiencing, so I built up the courage to tell my two closest friends, who were incredibly supportive and encouraged me to speak to my mum. I tried to talk to her a few times, but struggled to get the words out and eventually I wrote her a letter. My mum was so supportive. She was broken hearted and cried with me, and then arranged for me to get some counselling.

Later we shared my story with my aunts, who also showed me huge support. I slowly started feeling normal again and worked hard on getting better, determined not to a "victim" of rape, determined to not let that man take away my bubbliness and sense of self.

I started dating again, and trusting enough to allow men to get close to me. I thought I was healed. I met a man, who became a serious boyfriend, and I think I saw our relationship as a way to prove that I was over the rape and could live my life again.

I had plans for a trip to Spain, and went ahead with them in spite of my new relationship. I left soon after we met. I spent three months in Spain learning Spanish. I loved Spain, and here I found passion again. Spain was so colourful, the clothes that people wore, the bright and cheerful Ferias and of course the flamenco dance. For the first time in ten years, I stepped into a dance class again. I loved learning flamenco, and as I danced I felt my bubbliness and enthusiasm for life return. Dance helped me heal and find myself again.

I returned home to my boyfriend and continued what would be a three-year relationship with him. I thought his charismatic nature and fun side complemented mine and allowed me to be me. But I didn't realise how I was slowly becoming a shadow of my true self. He got himself into a lot of trouble, and because I loved him so much, I thought I could save and help him. He kept making the same mistakes, and the lies and deception grew bigger. I pushed my family away, as they tried to warn me about him. I put him on a pedestal and allowed him to control my whole life; I was too scared of his temper to stand up for myself or to leave, until dance saved me once again.

My boss at the time suggested that we join beginners Latin American and ballroom dance classes, and we did. I was dancing again, and this was the best thing that could happen for me and the worst for my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend. Months later, our dance teacher, Pam, told me that she couldn't understand why this charismatic man was in a relationship with this mouse of a girl, who hardly spoke and hid her face behind her long hair. Dancing slowly brought me back to myself, and each time I danced I grew more confident and happier. I soon realised, with the help of a male friend from that same dance class, that I was in a terrible relationship, that I deserved to be treated better and that I needed to get out right then and there. And so I did.

But, dance had given me so much power again, that I was able to take a massive step further and changed my whole life. In three months I broke up with my boyfriend, left my job (where I had allowed myself to start a similar relationship of disrespect and being taken advantage of ) and moved suburbs to my own little duplex. Pam told me that only then did she see who I really was, as that mousy girl disappeared and I became confident and strong in myself.

It was at this time that I truly started realising the power of dance in my life, and that I needed more dance in order to truly be me. I saw a belly dancer, called Wendy performing, and I was instantly attracted to her energy and passion. I knew immediately that I had to dance with her and I enrolled in her class the very next week. I had no idea at the time that belly dance would lead to an entire new life for me, and that I would never stop dancing!

As I started to move my body, my soul awakened and the most intense healing took place. I started glancing at myself in the studio mirror and slowly started recognising the little girl who pointed her toes in ballet class, the passionate flamenco dancer from Spain. At one stage the intense healing I was experiencing became too much for me, and I had to take a few weeks break from dancing. But I couldn't stay away for long, not when I so desperately needed so much healing.

Like working through the layers of an onion, my first few years of belly dancing healed my pain from my relationship with my ex-boyfriend, my being raped, my high school years, my primary school years and everything else in-between. For the first time in my life, I knew who I was and who I wanted to be. I was free and my life was beautiful.

George Bernard Shaw said: "If you can't get rid of the skeleton in your closet, you'd best take it out and teach it to dance," and that is exactly what I did. I danced with every one of my skeletons and experienced profound healing. I wanted to, no, I needed to pass on this precious gift of healing that dance had given to me. I needed to dance every day of my life in order for me to truly live.

At this exact time, Warren danced into my life! Dance healing had led me to a place where I could love again, and allow someone to love me. I knew the moment that I met Warren that he would be my life-dance partner. Warren is a Latin American and ballroom dancer, and later became a dance teacher and also a professional line dancer, which he has excelled at. We moved in together four months after we met, and got married four years later. Our lives revolve around our dancing and our dance studios, and I feel we are the perfect fit of love and support for each other's lives.

After Wendy moved to Cape Town, I started doing my belly dance teacher training and exams through the South African Dance Teacher's Association. I started taking regular trips to Egypt, in order to connect with the source of my chosen dance form, and in 2005, I started my own belly dance studio: Maya Dance Company. I had been working for some time as a KaHuna Massage Therapist, Reiki Master and Breathwork facilitator, and as much as I loved the healing these modalities offered my clients, I felt that dance healing could reach and heal so much more. So eventually I stopped giving other healing and focussed completely on my studio and giving my all to my dance students.

Teaching dance hasn't always been easy or comfortable. Facilitating the dance which gives so much healing has opened me up to ego-driven behaviour from some of my students, and this has caused me a lot of emotional pain at times. Healing isn't always easy, and sometimes being pushed into healing can make the ego show up and lash out. The dancer cannot lash out at the dance, as very often they don't consciously understand what is happening. All that they can see is that as they dance they start confronting their own skeletons, and feeling uncomfortable. Their lives start changing, which is scary. They know is that it started with the dance, and so the dance teacher must be at fault. But apart from these isolated cases, which have also taught me many lessons, I have seen tremendous growth and healing in the students and I have loved watching them grow in confidence, standing up for themselves and rightfully claiming the joy and success life is giving them.

My own dance healing journey certainly didn't end. I have found other dance forms have stepped into my life at exactly the right moment. I have spent a lot of time in Cairo with my dear friend and dance teacher Yasmina of Cairo, who has continually helped me and many of my students to connect to the roots of our Middle Eastern Dance in Egypt, and who keeps pushing my boundaries and helping me to grow further. I had the privilege of a photo shoot with Yasmina at some special locations in Cairo; wearing designer belly dance costumes. This dance-related photo shoot was a highlight in my dance career and deeply healing at the same time. Yasmina made me feel so comfortable, gently encouraged me into poses and captured wonderful photos on film, making me see how beautiful I was. These photos truly show the freedom and love that I feel in my dancing, and I treasure them.

On one of my Egypt trips I experienced the huge honour of learning Tanoura, the Sufi dance of the whirling dervish, from a beautiful and special Egyptian man named Kareem. This dance form pushed me further than I have ever been pushed before, the connection with my higher self, and the source of love, was so deep that there was no escaping it. My first lesson brought with it such physical discomfort; I felt that I had been punched in the solar plexus. I had to climb into bed, and lay there, the room spinning, for hours afterwards. I was determined to work through this and eventually break through the pain, and I did. And when I did, the feeling of complete euphoria that engulfed my soul and my life was magical.

In 2014, we had been trying to fall pregnant for four years. Four long, and very difficult years, of natural fertility treatment, and one of the hardest emotional journeys of my life. The absolute longing for a baby is all consuming, and it is really difficult to keep on the journey when your heart aches so much for the baby. I have always remained positive and upbeat and my body is certainly in a much better and healthier menstrual cycle than it was four years ago, But in 2014, I found myself feeling very disconnected from myself and my body. I feel it was about protection, it wouldn't hurt so much if my body was just not there. My body was just a baby-making machine getting fixed, and I had lost a lot of my confidence and self-worth, I had also put on quite a bit of weight over the journey and so I started hiding myself under baggy clothes. I was still teaching dancing everyday but my own personal dancing and performing had slipped away. Dance meant connecting to my body, a body that was hurting my soul every month.

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from Dancing With Your Skeletons by Senta Duffield. Copyright © 2016 Senta Duffield. Excerpted by permission of Balboa Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Table of Contents

Contents

Preface, xi,
Introduction, xiii,
Part 1: Dance Healing Stories, 1,
Chapter 1 Senta's Story, 3,
Chapter 2 Suzette's Story, 13,
Chapter 3 Mark's Story, 15,
Chapter 4 Bianca's Story, 17,
Chapter 5 Lee's Story, 21,
Chapter 6 Tania's Story, 23,
Chapter 7 Catherine's Story, 26,
Chapter 8 Ella's Story, 28,
Chapter 9 Brendan's Story, 31,
Chapter 10 Elizabeth's Story, 33,
Chapter 11 Lauren's Story, 36,
Part 2: Dance Healing, 41,
Chapter 12 Why do we Dance?, 43,
Chapter 13 Taking your Skeleton out of the Closet, 49,
Chapter 14 Which Dance to do?, 53,
Chapter 15 How to Dance, 56,
Chapter 16 Practice and Training, 61,
Chapter 17 The Performance, 65,
Chapter 18 Don't put your Skeleton back in the Closet, 71,
Chapter 19 The Applause, 75,
Part 3: The Dance Directory, 79,
References and Credits, 125,
About the Author, 127,