On Dreaming As A Movement Practice
What does your movement practice entail? Does it extend way beyond just yourself? Is it ‘larger’ than you are?
…And have you ever thought about such questions?
Movement is an interesting practice because it’s allusive. So allusive that, as Ido Portal himself says: “when you look there’s nothing there; but if you look the other way for a moment then it reappears”.
This could be akin to, for example, training for a marathon but actually discovering much more about your diet and sleeping habits than the running itself. Or appearing to do your best creative writing when not writing at all in fact (say, whilst speaking into a microphone or out brainstorming ideas with a friend).
Dreaming is the epitome of the ‘accidental act’; the non-doing that magically evokes the quality of the doer. The power of dreaming as a real practice lies specifically in the fact that it’s not real…
It therefore allows for a contrast, a paradox, within oneself, and a necessary escape from the inevitably habitual processes involved in a day-to-day working life.
Try observing your mind at different periods of the day, in different physical spaces and during different physical acts. There is a ‘walking outdoors mind’, a ‘cooking mind’, a ‘making love mind’, a ‘writing mind’, a ‘doing dishes mind’ etc etc. And yet there is a quality of dreaming inherent in each.
It’s normal to hear people say the following, for example: “I like cleaning because it helps me to clear my mind”, “I actually quite like doing the dishes because it helps me to think”, “the thing I like about walking is the creative ideas that come to me whilst out on the hills”.
Even very ‘in the moment’ actions that don’t allow us to lose concentration or daydream entail all kinds of acrobatic mental escapes. (If you’ve ever been upside down, or perched up in a very high tree, you might remember the crazy thoughts that arised in such moments - thoughts of dying, of flying, of vivid colours and twisted shapes).
In short, dreaming in some sense is an inevitable and daily reality. We live in the past and we live in the future - our dreams remind us of that. And we’re influenced by other ‘dimensions’ or fields of consciousness that dreams also reveal, all be it in somewhat abstract ways.
We might like to believe we’re fully ‘in the moment’, and perhaps it’s indeed noble to strive for, but the truth is we cannot help but to imagine, to pretend and to trick ourselves into other simultaneous realms of experience. To build our dream house inside of our minds, to list great new business ventures inside of a notebook, or to redefine our upbringing through fantastical myths and stories.
With regards to a more formal movement practice, however, how might these innate human ‘powers’ of ours inform it?
The use of imagery in sports performance and training is widely known, and is an obvious example of utilising the creative imagination for beneficial adaptations.
Imagery usually involves a specific situation or task being played out before hand. This is the traditional ‘tool’ - imagining yourself the night before a high jump competition, for example, already approaching the bar, hear the crowd, feel the bouncy orange track beneath your feet, speed up your feet as you get closer and begin to arch your back once you take off and turn into the air.
This is one kind of dreaming - ‘preparatory imaginings’ we might call them.
The question is, aren’t all workings of the mind the result or consequence of something that happened before (or after, in preparation for) it?
And then also: is it possible to dream, imagine, create inside of an entirely open, free and unattached state? Could one vividly recreate the sensual, lived experience of a surfer, for example, if never having been on a surfboard or even visited the sea before?
Perhaps there is a way, somehow, to reach such freedom of thought and internal exploration.
I’ve discovered a few simple methods, in fact, that do the job better than anything else I’ve yet come across…
1) The ‘Great Ideas’ List: Simple. You sit comfortably with a notebook and pen, in silence, and allow any ‘great idea’ (no matter how unrealistic or strange it might be) to find you. By having this intention, trust me, they eventually will!
Write them down, be patient and don’t stop till you’ve got at least 10…
2) The ‘Prison’ Approach: This method embraces the notion of ‘discipline equalling freedom’ - an idea I’ve mentioned at times before. However, the constraints, in this case, are more spatial (and therefore peripheral) rather than organisational.
By minimising our space/s and, in turn, our energetic inputs, we concentrate our efforts (largely subconsciously) in a very different way. The internal becomes more highlighted, more vivid, and our external relationship to things the opposite. Many of the best creative ideas, future plans and compassionate realisations I’ve ever had, for example, have been when stuck inside a small kitchen or cafe for 10+ hours in a day.
3) Robot Mode: Or ‘counting rice’ as the Zen practice goes. This concept utilises the humble, yet profound, art of repitition. Doing dishes, cleaning rooms, walking at a steady pace all day, writing a single novel over a long time, repeating the same morning yoga routine etc are examples of ‘robot mode’ coming into play.
The repetitive act therefore becomes the container, the vessel, inside of which all kinds of unexpected thoughts, dreams, ideas and imaginations arise. Many may disappear with the wind; others, however, might change the course of your life forever!
Try these yourself (if you’re not already) and allow dreaming, as both a subconscious ‘art’ and a practice, to inform your life’s journey…
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