Movement as Resistance
How are you doing?
Really; how are you?
A few weeks ago, right around the time when Renee Good was murdered by an ICE agent in Minneapolis, I read a blog post online (that I tried to find and link here, but it seems to have disappeared from the internet world…) written by a therapist about how fascism settles into the body. This might not be new information to some readers, but for me, it felt new. How does a political ideology live in my body? My bones, my muscles, my organs, my nervous system?
The body, under the stress of fascism, encloses, shrinks, tightens, narrows, becomes rigid, feels hardened and cold. Every cell and every tissue responds to the stress by learning to obey. It’s a combination of physical, psychological and social pressure to suppress and conform that results in “muscular armor,” a term coined by psychologist Wilhelm Reich.
If you’re anything like me, you are probably angry, heartbroken, frustrated, horrified, tired, numb, and feeling like your acts of resistance aren’t enough to make a difference. I said goodbye to Amazon, Disney, and Target last year. I call and email my representatives weekly. I go to the protests when I can. I shop locally and support small farms. I share inspiring teachings with my students. I’m trying to raise my daughter with empathy and compassion.
One of my yoga teachers recently said, “we become that which we dwell on.” If I believe this to be true, then how can I resist in a way that doesn’t leave me feeling angry, heartbroken, frustrated, horrified, tired and numb? Now, more than ever, I understand the importance of having a personal practice. I always feel spacious, free, peaceful, warm, open, uplifted and grounded after dancing or practicing yoga. My personal practices and contemplations are supporting my own resistance to fascism in my body as I aim to cultivate an embodied state of peace that will not allow authoritarianism to take over my physical or subtle body.
Recently, I was privileged to sit with professor emeritus of Religious Studies and Sanskrit scholar Bill Mahony for an afternoon discussion centered on the writings of various sages and poet-saints from the Bhakti Yoga tradition (the path of Divine Love). During the discussion, a few participants shared that these poems and passages we were contemplating made them want to cry. I felt it too. My heart was melting and ready to burst, but not with sadness, it was melting from the realization of just how generous Love is. By contemplating the words of these great beings, and considering a life oriented toward Divine Love, I was feeling peaceful and content amidst the chaos of what is happening on the streets.
As I continue to follow the 2,300 mile Walk for Peace journey of the Buddhist monks from the Huong Dao Vipassana Bhavana Center in Texas, I understand and sense in a deeper way the significance of their walking. They walk to promote peace, compassion and nonviolence in a nonpolitical way. However I can’t help but view and feel it as an act of political resistance, especially when I see the large crowds that gather in support along the road.
While it might not seem like enough on a grand scale, I actually think that nourishing the body physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually might be one of the most significant acts of political resistance we can all be doing right now. And I know that this is not a new concept— movement as resistance, spiritual practices as resistance, love as resistance. I have heard this said across many different points in time and space. But for me, for now, I needed the reminder, and perhaps you do too. So, I will continue dancing, continue practicing yoga, continue reading and contemplating, continue connecting to my breath, continue praying, chanting and meditating. These practices are supporting me now in a way that I never expected to need them for.
So really, instead of me asking, how are you doing? I should be asking, what are you doing?
Leave a comment and let me know. I’d love to hear from you.