On Safe & Sacred Space

The apartment didn’t feel very special. Nothing about the place felt good, but it was late AF, raining, and I was over it. There were still unfinished cabinets in the kitchen, and as we moved our suitcases and mattress passed the random piles of wood on the floor, I could see the layers of dust that sat mockingly in every corner. This was not exactly my “new year, new space” vision for 2021, but what could I have expected at the height of a global pandemic? Sustaining a career in the arts is hard enough. Being in a new place during one of the most terrifyingly unpredictable times in centuries made it seem impossible. I wanted it all: a cozy home, an office, a dance room, everything I thought I would need to embark on this journey. But already, shit was out of hand. Walking in I thought, “This half-done Sims project might as well be my new place” (insert eye-roll). I just didn’t see how it would all work. Slowly though, the apartment revealed its unique charm and, more importantly, its true agenda: to challenge my understanding of sacred spaces.

How Do We Define Our Space?

I’ve been thinking about space a lot lately. We know that we have no real control over our environment, and if you’re like me, you might have experiences that make it difficult to discern your reality and trust your surroundings. I sometimes feel like a “space-case” (no pun intended), often ping-ponging between hypervigilance and disassociation. These days, we’re ALL walking around distracted by our vices and devices alike, so this brings up 2 specific questions for me: How can we define space? And how do we show up in it? If you ask theoretical physicist and best-selling author Brian Greene, he’ll say it’s the Fabric of the Cosmos. Space is not only everywhere, it provides the very framework for our lives. Your beliefs, your actions…your whole reality depends on how you understand space.

General vs. Personal Space

What comes up for you when you think about “space”? Does your mind shift to the moon, stars, and far-away galaxies (outer space), or do you immediately think of a favorite area designated for games and snacks (physical space) in your home? Is it about your online presence and following (social space)? Maybe it’s about having a seat at the table (taking up space). We all say we’re entitled to OUR space, but what does that really mean? What can be considered MY space? Laban Movement Analysis (LMA) tells us that space is the area through which a body moves. We can measure and even dictate our movement through space with concepts like direction, level, pathways, etc. Einstein gave us the theory of relativity to help explain the exchange between a body or object and its space. While it’s difficult for most to separate space from the concept of time, he understood these are actually distinct, and work in tandem to shape our world. That’s a long way of saying space is literally everywhere, and everything has a space. But how does that affect us individually and collectively?

Body ody ody ody

By definition, a body is the physical structure or makeup of an organism. But if we take a more abstract definition, we see that a body can also refer to a large group or object made up of smaller ones such as a mass of a building. It’s why we use idioms like a “body” of water. Movement specialists like dancers, athletes, or martial artists usually have a keen awareness of their bodies. We are constantly pushing the limits of balance and polarity working to find the edges of our being. Through this exploration, we develop a relationship with our kinesphere, or personal space, that most never learn. I believe becoming comfortable with your personal space starts with finding comfort in the body first. Regular, physical exercise of any nature can help, but adding specific things like mobility exercises and coordination drills will also connect the brain, and help you move through your kinesphere mindfully. In fact, dance helps me understand how this relationship shows up in my everyday life, and how it impacts my social interactions. The more we are in tune with what our bodies really need, the better able we are to navigate and set boundaries.

This is not only true for the physical body, but extends to the metaphorical bodies we create when we gather in groups. We all love attending events and visiting public spaces where we can interact with others, but then which questions do we ask to meet the needs of the whole? Is it safety? Inclusivity? What becomes the priority? Designers of spaces and community builders everywhere are tasked with this challenge: How to create opportunities to engage without sacrificing those doing the engaging. This is not an easy thing to do. But I mean, we’ve all been to THOSE places, right? The places that say they are aware and welcoming but fall short of any real knowledge or action? These spaces can be dangerous, and the concern displayed is often performative. And baby, I know a show when I see one.

Community.

I move a lot. An inheritance from my immigrant family. As is true with many people, what was consistent for me growing up was change. That, and the smell of palo santo. Each time we moved into a new home, immediately the clean(s)ing would begin. Incense, and palo santo, and prayer and sweeping and scrubbing and bleaching (there was also a lot of bleach). I participated in the ritual of clean(s)ing my spaces, and while it’s a practice I carry with me to this day, I didn’t understand what it meant at the time. Our ancestors were nomads, and they knew this. They understood that constantly moving left them vulnerable to the conditions of the spaces they entered, so they learned to communicate with their environment and adapt. For my parents, this was connected to their religious & cultural upbringing. A form of protection they hoped would extend to their family. I see now the ritual helps to connect us energetically and spiritually to the space and each other. It’s an acknowledgment that we intend to spend time here. An honoring of both the space and ourselves. Yes, coming together and moving in groups is difficult, but it doesn’t have to be. If we remember that a community is a collective body with needs, made up of individual bodies with their own needs, we can figure out how to move through space harmoniously. My mom would take an empty can of Bustelo, twist a wire hanger around it to form a handle, and as the smoke filled the air (and our lungs) we watched her glide around the maze of packed boxes waving her can like a wand, waiting for the OK to fully enter and claim the space as our own.

R e s p e c t

When I think back to feeling safe in any particular space, I know 3 things were likely true about it: there was music, there was dancing, and there was respect: something I feel we have lost as humans. Not only do we struggle to show respect to each other, but even our planet Earth, our literal HOME does not escape the consequences. It makes me think about responsibility. Really, it makes me think about RESPONSE-ABILITY. Today we are a society riddled with constant stimuli, and no real opportunity to decompress and release. As a result, we often lack the ability to remain present and respond accordingly to what is happening around us. I struggle with this A. LOT. I’m super reactive, so this has been a point of focus for me. I want to make sure I understand my personal space in relation to yours and see what feels safe for us both at this moment. When we understand that public spaces are meant for EVERYONE…things can become complicated. But while we can’t control what happens in any given area, we can still learn to trust our ability to create space, respond, and find our way back to safety if necessary.

“All spaces are sacred because the absence of space is a vacuum. Nothing moves through there, therefore nothing lives there.”

Sacred Space

Harley loves it here. Besides the occasional loud noise, or intrusive furry creature lurking at our window, she doesn’t have many complaints. We’ve gotten rid of the wood and (most of) the dust. Sometimes I hit the mat in the mornings, burning sage before a yoga flow. Sometimes we all stay in bed and watch movies all day. Sometimes I’m at my desk staring at the moon through the window. I’ve been thinking about space a lot lately, and I realize that it is something we take for granted. I know I do. I forget that space provides room for us to do life. That all things in existence NEED space. All spaces are sacred because the absence of space is a vacuum. Nothing moves through there, therefore nothing lives there. This is not our apartment, this is not an office, and it’s not a dance room. It’s not even a home. This is our space. Sacred space. We fill it with love, patience, joy, pain, LIFE. There is living happening in here, and that’s all I can ask for.