I could talk about how the idea of introducing high school students to InterPlay made me doubt myself.

I could talk about how I knew deep inside that they needed InterPlay and that they would love it!

I could talk about how InterPlay has made the first month of school go quite smoothly.  I could talk about how the students’ parents said over & over again at Open House how much their children enjoyed my class.

My assignment for this year:  7 classes of high school German.  Not what I really wanted to be teaching…  InterPlay to the rescue!

Starting my school year with InterPlay felt like a risk to me, but it felt like something I needed to do.  I know I needed it.  Beginning “Day One” with a list of rules and a course syllabus had no appeal for me (or for the students.)  Instead, we moved and shared stories and had fun.

“How does this relate to German?” my well-meaning mom asked.  “That’s what the school assigned you to do.”

*Oh, I can talk about that…!*

InterPlay is all about communication!  Communication with words, communication without words, communication that transcends words.  I believe that in order to be able to communicate in a foreign language, you need to be able to express yourself in your native language.  You need to be able to express yourself, period.

I believe that in order to understand others who are different from us, we need to understand ourselves first.  InterPlay takes us to that place, as we free ourselves to move, to speak, to sing, to own our dances and stories and songs.

I want my students to speak out confidently, to take risks in using language.  I want them to understand that there are multitudes of creative ways to communicate.  I want them to see that communication is powerful.  I want them to value listening, witnessing.  I want them to feel empowered by the whole repertoire of choices that enable us to connect and share ourselves with others.   I want these young adults to understand that there are times to lead and times to follow.

Above all, I want them to play, to have fun.  When I think back to the stress that I felt as a high school student who was disappointed in anything less than a 100% and would not allow myself to smile unless the word “valedictorian” was next to my name, I don’t want these young adults to repeat that path.  I want my students to enjoy coming to school…at least to my class.  I want them to be excited by learning.  I want learning to be a playful process of discovery.  I want these high school students to be surprised and enlivened, and I want them to affirm and celebrate themselves and their playmates/classmates.

I could talk about how I know that my students and I will be doing InterPlay throughout the whole school year!

Now I’ve come to believe this is a false question. California will do that to you, I guess.

I had the very fortunate opportunity recently to participate in the NextGen Art and Social Change Residency with InterPlay, a collection of creative people all around the world who dance, tell stories and sing to reach a new level of understanding and communion with ourselves and others.

I gathered with a group of next generation (“now generation” as Rosetta Thurman prefers) artists and activists to dance, wander, tell stories and share at InterPlayce in Oakland. By dance, I do mean generally throw myself around breathlessly in a more flustered way, if you can believe it, than the boundless dancing to Thriller blaring on Youtube done in the privacy of my home.

Of many, many beautiful moments of sharing, connection and insight during the residency, one of my favorite things about this time was that the relation between art and social chance was never directly addressed. It was merely experienced.

Yes, the notes scrawled in my notebook address the relation between art and social change. In passing, we discussed Johanna Macy’s three manners of social change: holding action, shifting consciousness and creating new structures. Art does not prevent starvation, but art is an incredibly powerful consciousness-shifting process by which people can access deeper wells of compassion and authority to address social change concerns. I believe that art is a process, an interaction, rather than a static thing.

InterPlay Co-founder Phil Porter so beautifully defines art as an exchange of grace (read more in my post here). In dancing, in telling our stories, in singing our songs, we are making an offering. Though not an offering of food or physical nourishment, it is an offering of grace and sharing to others.

Within the InterPlay community, we invoke ease, joy, laughter; we share pain and love, we hold separation and collision, we dance through it with others who are dancing through it.

Take your mind out every now and then and dance on it. – Mark Twain

In sharing our story, we participate in the exchange of grace — and therefore we also cultivate it within ourselves. Claiming, crafting and sharing our story is a profoundly transformative process.

This is radical in a world in which grace and the whispers of the soul are considered inconsequential, where we are asked to sacrifice every waking moment to getting ahead. We need to overwork so that our job is secure, then we need the raise so we can get the car so we can get the spouse so we can get the house so we can get the stocks so we can build the 401K.

How enlivening to take a deep breath, to play and be silly, to show up and dance our story with others.

Two months after this enlivening experience at the Art and Social Change Residency, I have a Melanie Chopko print hanging in my living room, my left big toenail remains painted partially green, flecked with emerald sparkles, I hold incredibly dear the days I spent with these gifted and generous friends from all over the world, who danced with me as I danced through this question of art and social change, as I danced and played and fumbled with questions and sought my voice.

I apologize, this is an InterPlay insider-thing

As Alison Luterman, an InterPlayer and Poet I was fortunate enough to meet in Oakland, wrote in her poem, “Little True Poem,” in See How We Almost Fly,

we inherit our stories,

but choose how to tell them.

In choosing to tell our stories and how to tell them, we might well be changing our own lives, the lives of others, and therefore, changing the world.

I’m happy to say that InterPlay Co-founder Phil Porter is in Raleigh this week for Million Connections Week-Raleigh! Check out the exciting list of opportunities for you to experience InterPlay for yourself and stay tuned for round two at the conclusion of Million Connections Week.

I am in the midst of a transition time… questioning… lots of wonderings… everyone says thats what the twenties are about.

I miss all the lovely friends from the Art and Social Change program; I blinked and the two weeks was over. I blinked again and it has been a month and half.

I am teaching Improvisation and using Interplay, people are LOVING IT!

There is a super cool Art Hike up here this weekend that I get to be apart of !!! It really does pay to follow your passion. I get to dance a prayer with friends on behalf of the Cherokee tribeswomen and all women as a matter of fact, actually on behalf of all HUMANS!! Here’s to the gift and beauty of human expression.. check out Trails and Vistas

I also wanted to share some words on love:

When I was around eight years old I asked my Mother “what is God?”

“God is love”, she answered without hesitation. Immediately I envisioned a big red heart enthroned in the sky, shining down on earth from its regale court of clouds. I am reminded of this conversation when I ask myself the questions “what is love and how did I develop a concept of love?” I start to think about my family, my friends, and all the lovers from my past. I have to pause to feel my breath sink into my chest with the fullness of, well, with the fullness of love. For me, love is felt so deeply on a physical level that words to describe the sensation are only half of the experience. Let me try to describe what the bodily sensation feels like. There is a tingling and a shortness of breath, I have to stop thinking and just feel. I take a big breath and sigh, I know love is coming into my body. It is expansive and has a slight pressure to it, like a gentle pressing that allows you to relax. I feel it well up in my heart and into my throat, and then it finally shows itself in the expression on my face: a smirk, a gushing smile, an outcry of laughter, and sometimes tears. It is possible for that love to have a tinge of grief or sadness to it…to have love that is accompanied by a feeling of loss. Love is like a ballad with different sections: joyous love, silly love, romantic love, pained love, strained love, transparent love, flawed love, and unconditional love. Each flavor of love comes from the different ways we experience our humanity, and each flavor can be traced back to that infinite god-like source of unconditional love.

I LOVE YOU ALL! Until next time,

Anna

To stress and seriousness I say WHEEEEEE! As a recovering serious person, I have known and practiced good self-care. You almost have to in order to survive your serious life. I love a good bubble bath, supportive conversations, some yoga and meditation. It’s all good stuff, but for me these things are mostly just antidotes for the underlying problem – too much seriousness and an overactive focuser.

And then I discovered the InterPlay cure – a playful way of life. InterPlay has a way of helping you tap into your creative playful spirit, shed old body grooves (ways of being), and connect with others in new and different ways using movement, storytelling, voice, contact, and stillness. This powerful cure is leading me to less
agenda and more freedom to be with the beauty of the moment.

This was all a recent discovery for me while spending two incredible weeks with young artists and activists learning about InterPlay in the context of a larger discussion called Next Gen Leaders: Art for Social Change, led by InterPlay co-founders Cynthia Winton-Henry and Phil Porter, and the vibrant young InterPlay leader Amy Shoemaker.

When you are serious a lot of the time, you tend to take yourself a little too seriously. And don’t get me wrong, there are things in this world worth taking seriously that need our full attention and loads of collective energy; but my chronic seriousness and perpetual abundant work load is not just about transforming the world for good. For me it is also about trying to create a life of certainty and predictability and finding too much of my value in my achievements. With enough planning, careful calculation, and hard work, life will go as planned, right…?

And then I met improvisation. Spontaneous expression is part enthralling, part terrifying. It makes me feel vulnerable, but teaches me to trust and appreciate myself and whatever comes out. InterPlay provides a safe space just to try some stuff with no guarantees of it being any good, but without any value system by which to judge it. It gives me the courage to be imperfect and just to be who I am. To play, dance, sing, talk and create in the presence of a witness or a group of witnesses doesn’t have to be frightening. For it is openness to
vulnerability that births the beauty of love, belonging, creativity, joy, and deep relationship; and to feel vulnerable means that I am alive.

I returned from my 2 weeks at Next Gen with a very full suitcase (as in “Uh-oh, I hope the zipper doesn’t break…Please don’t let this be “overweight” at the check-in counter…Does that ‘sit on it’ trick really work?”)  I wanted to bring ALL of northern California back to my family and friends!

Along with a suitcase loaded with memories and gifts, I came home full of body wisdom and energy, bearing gifts of playfulness, freedom, creativity, and grace that I couldn’t wait to share with those whom I love.  I was “on fire” from two weeks of intense play.  Along with other playful spirits from around the world, I had walked, stopped, ran, hung, swung, shaped, thrusted, created art, cried, danced on behalf of intentions close to my heart, played in people-sized boxes(!), moved my body in familiar and novel ways, listened to my inner authority, raised my “flaps,” told stories that had never been told before, enjoyed deep conversations and deep belly laughs, surprised myself, and come into contact (in all meanings of that word) with amazing and inspiring people.

Just as my suitcase was bursting with treasures for myself and to share with those dear to me, I was bursting at the seams with appreciation for all of the ways that InterPlay has enriched my life.  Two days after my plane landed at the Philadelphia International Airport, I had the opportunity to reconnect with my home InterPlay group at Wellspring Holistic Center in Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania under the leadership of Anita Bondi and Stan Stewart.  I decided, on the spot, that the best way to begin (after the warm-up, of course), was with a Big Body Story (a form that I had previously found to be scary.) 

There was so much more to my story than I even realized, and I discovered that I have many more Big Body Stories inside of me.  And I knew:  I really want to share these with the world!  I really want to share InterPlay with the world! I want others to have the life-changing experiences of moving and being moved, claiming their art, claiming their stories and their lives, singing truths, breaking free from limiting identities, dancing through pain and joy, noticing and loving what comes up, trusting, playing with complete abandon, engaging in spontaneity, being affirmed, and being present in each moment.

I am excited about the opportunities before me:  to lead, to follow, to create grace in the world.  I feel empowered, and I feel supported by the entire InterPlay community.  I am alive and stand strong with a connected mind, heart, and spirit as I dance my dance, sing my songs, and tell my stories in the company of others.  I hope to come in contact with YOUR bodyspirit (virtually and/or in person.)  As you take a deep breath and let it out with a sigh, please know that I am doing the same.

Powerful.  Soft.  Deep.  Healing.  Wacky.  Revealing.  Playful.  Together.  Real.

I wish I could paint for you a picture of this year’s Next Gen in the form of a Big Body Story.  I’ve come to realize that I can best express the complexity and paradoxes of life through movement and storytelling combined. And this year’s Next Gen gathering was nothing less than complex and intense – integrative of our inner and outer worlds, to our minds, bodies and souls and to our journeys as young change-makers and artists seeking to find our place in this web of life in a time of chaos and hope.

Interplay and the Next Gen fell out of the sky for me like a long awaited rainfall.  I knew I was seeking to find a way to bridge my passion for community learning/building with theatre and movement.  I was in transition, looking to piece together the different spices of my being to make a masala that captured all of my parts.  And then Interplay found me in Bombay and I knew this was for me. What I didn’t know was that I had so much healing and unlearning to do around my own ability to perform my own original pieces of movement and storytelling.  And though I have been a dancer and a performer for my entire life, I still felt I wasn’t good enough to get up and speak my own truth through my voice and body.  And then I was affirmed and affirmed and affirmed, and something started shifting in me!   I started to realize how much I became my true self through play with others.  And slowly the layers started to peel for all of us.  And nestled in a community of love, amidst people we had all just met, we stood, revealed and strong, able to unpack, unlearn, accept and not just be, but embrace who we are.

I’m practicing easy focus, singing and dancing wherever I am, affirming the good, and I’m feeling the love in return.  I’m passionate about alternative learning and one thing I know is that the school stifles our creativity and our ability to be ourselves.  I am excited to share interplay with the communities I interact with in Toronto where I’m from, and the world, so that more people can discover their creative genius and be themselves, cause that’s the best we can be. I know the paths to just alternatives in the world, must be carved with a different clay than the ones leading to our destruction. And that means making art, play, wholeness, bodyspirit and togetherness the yeast of the cake and not just the cherry on top.

We came to be renewed. We came to believe again.

We sat in circles on floor (the classic form in social justice
organizing) and talked. We explored definitions of activists, artists,
mentors, teachers, leaders and followers. We ventured into the
inexplicable reality of oppression and hope. Often, words couldn’t
describe the complexity. Sometimes we just needed to dance. Or talk in
gibberish. Or bang on a drum. Or hold onto a friend. In our movements
and conversations together, we all unfolded. Like cherry blossoms in
Spring, each of us sank down into our roots and reached for
nourishment, showing our flowery faces to the eternal Sun.

Oh! Have I gotten carried away, grandiose in my writing? Well, such
transformation deserves good metaphors.

But seriously, this stuff is truly transformative. Interplay is a
little like magic tricks with cards. Seemingly simple, yet deceptively
multifarious. While I explored the intricate shape of my hand in a
focused “hand dance,” I was also learning about mirror neurons,
right/left/integral brain functioning and the pace of my body, the
importance of stepping out of the rat race, if even for just a moment.

Phil and Cynthia, Interplay’s fearless and devoted founders (well,
maybe they have some passing anxieties or moments of apathy, but it
just sounds so good to say that), were our companions the entire two
week journey. They made themselves available during breaks and lunches
and often stayed up late at night to tag pictures of us on Facebook.

Following the two week Next Gen program, I spent some time with
family. If there is any test for spiritual growth, time with parents,
aunts, uncles and cousins usually does the trick. I found myself
utilizing the tools of Interplay over and over again. In demonstrating
“WEEEE!” and easy focus, I helped to lighten the mood between my
parents, and introduced my seventeen year old cousin to big body
stories. She was prancing around the living room telling us about her
kayaking adventure, with all of us in gales of laughter.

So far, I’ve found the wisdom of Interplay to be applicable in so many
areas of my life. Besides nurturing and easing my relationships with
others, it is an approach to work and purpose that has helped me to
make more space in my life for joy and rest.

At the close of every email, I have a “signature” that includes the
following quote from Thomas Merton “The frenzy of the activist often
neglects the root of the work which is cultivating inner peace.” I
keep this on the bottom of each email, because everyday – in coffee
shops and riding the train – I see how stressed out people can become
at their computers.

And it is not easy to remember. We live in a culture that says you can
either work hard and be successful or you can play around and waste
your time and energy. Drawing firm boundaries on what counts as
“important work” – be it artistic or another profession, is a
disservice to the vibrant, beautiful diverse creative energy that is
our divine gift. Or at least, that’s my opinion!

The Next Gen program has renewed my faith that a way to do art and
social change not only exists, but can be the pillars of a meaningful
life. Thank you, Next Gen. I’m so grateful, and I’m so ready to
continue the dance.

If you would like to contribute to InterPlaying for social change let Cynthia know at cynthia@interplay.org