“Embodiment is a kind of re-membering of who we really are, because what we picked up along the way was disembodiment. But disembodiment is not how we come into the world. It can be unlearned, while embodiment, our birthright, can be remembered.” ~ Hillary L. McBride, PhD, The Wisdom of Your Body
If dismembering is the separation of parts from the whole, maybe returning to wholeness is re-membering.
In English, the words “remembering” and “recollecting” refer to acts of the mind: the recalling of events, stories, facts, or ideas. But lately, I’ve been thinking of re-membering in a more holistic way: a re-collecting and re-gathering of scattered parts.
As we accumulate years, we also accumulate roles and experiences, adventures and ordeals. Over time, we are pulled and pushed in a bunch of different directions. We can start to feel disoriented, disconnected, scattered, sometimes even shattered.
A friend of mine has had 9 surgeries in 5 years. I had two broken feet in 18 months. Other friends have had surgeries to remove cancer. These traumatic experiences can feel like a literal dismemberment.
But the feeling of dismemberment doesn’t necessarily mean you’ve gone under the surgeon’s knife. Anyone can feel dismembered. As children grow, the economy fluctuates, relationships change, the pandemic lingers, and political and environmental uncertainties loom, everybody can feel pulled apart.
In the past few months, I’ve reveled in returning to in-person classes. Moving together with a room full of people takes my breath away. The surge of wonder and belonging reminds me not just why I do the work I do but why humans do these things together.
Last week, I went to a friend’s class inspired by African dance and accompanied by live drums. My whole body hummed to the vibration of sound and movement. I walked out feeling like everybody in the room was a friend.
The neuroscience and physiology of movement and moving together is fascinating, and there is nothing like an embodied experience to remind me that YES this is a human thing to do. Riiiight, of course. There is a reason we’ve done this forever.
Although I’ve called myself a movement teacher for decades, I’m questioning the title now. When it comes right down to it, I’m not teaching folks anything. I’m reminding them about things their bodies and spirits already know. I’m reminding about sensation and pleasure and curiosity and connection.
Psychiatrist and Mindsight Institute director, Dr. Dan Siegel says, “Health is integration.” Whether it’s in a body, a brain, a family or a country, a system is healthy when all the parts are integrated.
Re-membering is that integration, the gathering in of all parts of ourselves: body, mind, heart. Re-collection is the integration of the parts of ourselves we’re proud and ashamed of, the parts we ignore and reject, the parts we share and the parts we hide.
After all this time, maybe I’m not a teacher at all. Maybe I’m a “reminder-er.” It doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue and it would hardly fit on a business card. Besides, it’s not just me. By re-collecting ourselves we all remind each other of our humanity and that feels like the heart of the practice.