A Conversation with Dancer Emily Wright

If there is no movement, there is no life.

- Emily Wright

Photo by Alyce Johnson Photography

Based in Charlottesville, VA, Emily Wright is a dancer, movement educator, and author with a passion for the transformative power of dance. An experienced teacher of dance for all ages and a scholar with numerous publications, Emily is available for workshops, master classes, lectures, writing, commissions, and consultation. She offers an online and in-person Movement Medicine class that blends yoga, dance, and contemplation. Her book, Dancing to Transform: How Concert Dance Becomes Religious in American Christianity, was published in June 2021 by Intellect Press.

Interviews Editor Emily Chambers Sharpe speaks with Emily Wright about dance as a heightened form of attention, a practice of cultivating awareness, and a vehicle for making meaning and creating together. Join Emily Wright in our Autumn 2021 issue’s Moving Meditation, an invitation to contemplative practice and creative exploration through the moving body.

The following transcript has been edited. The full conversation is available in the audio interview above.

Emily Chambers Sharpe: Your book uses the title Dancing to Transform. Your bio talks about transformation and your passion for the ways that dance works. So I would love it if you could share more about how dance has transformed you and what really sparks that passion for dance.

Emily Wright: I think that dance and religion both have been vehicles to transform me but also to transform how I see the world around me and how I engage with other people. And one of the things that I talk about in the introduction to my book is that, as a child, I was really drawn to very strict, codified forms of dance and also very clear, black-and-white religious traditions, because my own home life was really chaotic.

Religion [was] a kind of a container that enabled me to feel a sense of understanding expectations and being able to learn about the world. It also put me in contact with other safe adults and really started me on my path to discovery. I then talk about how that container eventually became pretty confining. I outgrew that container. But it certainly was something that enabled me to not only survive, but also to attempt to grow and thrive in a really challenging environment.

ECS: Yeah, wow, that's quite a story. It seems like you had a big task ahead of you, to take both your personal story and weave it into what seems like, if I'm reading this correctly, almost like a history as well as a commentary on history? What was that like? And how did that creative process come together for you?

EW: Well, the research topic was very personally motivated. And I really went into it because of my own personal experiences and trying to make sense of both the positive and the challenging experiences that I'd had in the world of dance and Christianity. There's a form of academic inquiry called autoethnography. There are various levels that you can put yourself in, in terms of how much you are the subject of your own research. So I wouldn't say that this work is pure autoethnography, but I did use some autoethnographic elements to bring in not only my story and my own subjectivity, but in particular my own bodily experience of these different worlds. Because one of the things that dance studies as a discipline argues is that the body is a source of knowledge. And the body is able to produce and reflect and resist knowledge in the same way that written words are. So having those bodily experiences represented in the text through my own memories and my own subjective experience of things was really an important part of how I was knitting together all those different pieces.

The body is a source of knowledge. And the body is able to produce and reflect and resist knowledge in the same way that written words are.

ECS: Yeah, I would love it if you could say more about how, as a bodily experience and a creative experience, dance may enhance but may also come into conflict with—especially when you think of Christianity, in like a big word—I mean, Christianity is a big word, right? And it has a broad meaning. So I'd be really interested to hear if you could explore with us how dance is complimentary to you and may have some tension in those ideas.

EW: Sure. Well, so one of the first things that I do is I provide a definition for dance that is very broad. And I think that is one of the challenges that often comes up for people when they're trying to think about how these two forms reconcile. Because one seems to be very text-based and very much about beliefs and ideas. And the other seems to be about the body and movement. And how are those two things similar in any way?

So the definition that I use comes from the work of one of my mentors, Kimerer LaMothe, who talks about dance as a process of bodily becoming that involves sensing and responding to movement patterns. As you sense and respond in your own bodily system to patterns, impulses—within yourself, within the world around you, what you see others doing—you continue to create, essentially, your ideas and thoughts about that. So there's this mutually informing experience that happens around the physical experience and the cognitive or intellectual experience. 

Dance [is] a process of bodily becoming that involves sensing and responding to movement patterns.

So I use this definition of dance as movement patterns, as a process of bodily becoming. So then it really can encompass a lot of things that—and I even say this in the book, like some of the Christian dancers that I talk about in the text might not necessarily consider some of the movements that I talk about dance. For instance, I have a couple chapters where I trace a limited history of Christianity from inception, and then when I get into more Catholicism, I focus on Roman Catholicism, and then in the Protestant Reformation, I shift to Protestantism, and then I bring it to American Christianity, because that's where I'm tracing towards. But I look at these different kinds of movement practices that happen. And so, processions—I analyze that as a particular kind of dance, movement patterns that teach us how we are to orient ourselves to the divine and how we are to experience ourselves in relationship to the divine. Pilgrimage is another one, these patterns of walking and forward propulsion, the sense of spirituality as a journey. So if you are able to create a broad umbrella, then you can talk about these movement patterns that everyone that has a body is moving through in some way. We're all always moving through patterns. You really cannot escape that as a part of the human experience, no matter what your bodily limitations are, movement is there. If there is no movement, there is no life. Because breath is movement. But then you can also talk about the highly stylized and choreographed forms that go all the way to the concert stage.

ECS: Wow, I think that's really fascinating, and creates so much space for this type of expression. And it's really beautiful. I know, it's something that I, myself, find very interesting. And I think I've seen it more through having children, how I think like kneeling, or wringing your hands together, right, as a body movement that brings you into your body in a way and gives you a foot[hold], you know, or positions you if you're kneeling, right? So it's really interesting to hear you talk about these ideas as sort of more open for all of us, I think, to be exposed to dance in our lives, whether [or not] we consider ourselves dancers. 

EW: Mm hmm. Absolutely. Yeah. The book is definitely geared for people that are in the field of dance and that are interested in dance, but I am hoping that any person could come to the text and find something that would connect to their own life, even if it's just the question of what are the movement patterns that I engage in that help me feel connected to God or the earth or a community? What are these things that connect me to something that's larger than myself? And how can I continue to expand and deepen those patterns? And then conversely, what are the patterns that I participate in that perhaps create disconnection or move me in ways that contract me in some way or separate me in some way? So it's really about, in some ways, just a practice of cultivating attention and awareness of the patterns that we're already moving in, and then expanding them or extrapolating on them in some way or shifting away. I talk about that too. For a period of time, some of these patterns were really life-giving for me, and they really connected me to people that were really important to me and to experiences that I'm really thankful for having. But over time, I began to notice these same patterns aren't doing the same thing for me. And so then I need to make a shift.

So it's a very dynamic process as well. It's not like, okay, well, now I found this, these are the movement patterns, and this is the belief system, and this is the community that is going to work, you know, forever and ever, amen. It's kind of like, there is something that's dynamic and ongoing. And I think particularly in our current moment, there's that sense of like, we need to figure out how to move and respond in new and different ways, in ways that invite a healthy vulnerability or that invite critical inquiry, or all those kinds of things. So I feel like it's a really useful tool for me in this current moment, for sure.

We're all always moving through patterns. You really cannot escape that as a part of the human experience, no matter what your bodily limitations are, movement is there. If there is no movement, there is no life. Because breath is movement.

ECS: I really appreciate you using the word transformation around this. You know, there's sort of a very popular use of the word deconstruction, I think, around something what you just described, but transformation to me has this more creative angle overall. It’s looking at something that's expansive and invitational. So anyway, that's a little side note. I really appreciate you thinking about that as transformation, like the sort of movement that you described through your life.

EW: Yeah!

ECS: You feature four different dance companies in your book. And I'm really interested in what drew you to these companies. What about them—I'm sure there are others you could have considered—and what was the grappling point for them?

EW: Sure. Well, one thing that I was really trying to do was to show a variety and diversity of dance practices. So literally the kinds of techniques that people were engaged in, the kinds of new vocabularies that they practiced, and the kinds of art that they made, but also the different experiences across the theological spectrum. And even looking at different areas of the country, some of it ends up being different generations, because I think, particularly in the academy, there's very little research in dance studies about Christianity and dance at all. And there is kind of just a common misconception that Christianity doesn't dance and that Christianity is anti-dance and anti-body—and I mean, with good reason; there are certainly those strains. But I wanted to complicate that a little bit and show not only does this exist, but it actually exists in variety, and some of them are even contradicting each other, like they are saying different things about what they are doing and what they think the purpose of dance is, still, I think, in a fairly spacious way. I mean, none of the groups that I worked with said “this is the only way to do it,” which I think even that is a shift from maybe 10 or 20 years ago. 

But, for example, one of the companies that I look at is Ballet Magnificat! in Jackson, Mississippi, and they're a very traditional ballet company and also a very conservative evangelical company. And, in an interview, unprompted, one of the company members said to me, “We are evangelists first and artists second; evangelism is the primary goal of our work, and art is the vehicle for that.” And in another interview with Elizabeth Dishman, who's in Brooklyn, she's more of a project-based artist. Again, in an interview unprompted, she said, “You know, I'm not an evangelist; I'm an artist.” So it was almost the exact same language, you know, but for them, it's like they're doing two totally different things. But somehow, they're also still under the same umbrella. So I wanted to show how these things were all coexisting on a spectrum. And that it's, it's complicated and contradictory. And that to really understand this phenomena, you have to dig deeper. 

ECS: Yeah, yeah. Thank you so much for sharing that. I think that's really interesting to look at all of those broad, inclusive spectrums.

This is not related to your book, but I actually experienced some of your choreography a very, very long time ago when you were still a teenager, and you choreographed dances each summer for girls at a camp that we worked at. And I remember that you would teach the girls, throughout the week, and they would present at the end of the week. Something that stays with me is watching some girls perform a small ballet to a song that I cannot remember the name of, but the words are something like, I don't want to walk through heaven's door and not see your face, and there were these girls just choreographed really beautifully. And at the end of the summer, you may recall at that camp, we brought in girls who typically lived in housing projects and were marginalized in different ways. And at the end of the summer, I'd seen the dance, but those girls were performing it, and I remember watching those girls perform the piece, and I broke into tears. And it's still a very emotionally moving moment that I can find in my imagination and in the my heart. 

And so I wanted to bring this up, if you're interested to talk about it, we don't have to give the whole backstory. But, you know, having seen some of what you do, and that was when you were really early in movement. It seems that you are able to really connect with deep feelings and express them through your choreography. And in that, it was sort of like the feeling and the yearning part of faith that I saw in the choreography that you put together for that dance. It really touched us really deeply, and I also feel like, especially with that group of girls and knowing the differences in most of our lives and their lives, because those were girls of color, that you were sort of allowing them to express that. I'm very interested—as a choreographer, a dancer, and an artist, is that something that you intentionally set out to do? How does that connect with your kind of ethos?

As a choreographer, you cannot make a dance without other people… That dance only exists in the embodied selves of the people that do it… There's a mystery about it. I never get tired of seeing what this group of people will make together.

EW: Gosh, that's an interesting question. You know, it's interesting, because I did have some unusual early training. Because I think, typically, in most studio environments in the U.S., dancers are taught vocabulary, and they're taught how to perform. But they're not given a lot of experience with choreography, with learning how to make dances. But I was trained in a studio that actually emphasized that. And for our December, in-studio performance, we would actually choreograph a solo every year. And I started doing that at the age of eight.

ECS: Wow.

EW: Yeah, and you know, the first ones were like, it was a poster board full of action words we had to pick—like push pull, melt, slide—and make a dance. And as I got older, the dances got more complex. One time we did a mask study, and we made a mask, and then we made a dance about it.

So I think from a very early age, I did have a sense that dancers are makers, and dancers are people who are expressing something, and that that authority resides in some way within the individual as well as in the choreographer. So I think from an early age, that was in there in some way. I don't know that I could have articulated it at that time. As I've gotten older, I really began to see dance as a vehicle to make meaning together and to create together. 

So I do a lot of work when I work with college-age students, pre-professional students, but even in community context, where we start with a question or a prompt of some kind, and I try to find something that has enough juiciness that everyone can connect to it in a different way. And then we kind of devise tasks to make phrases, and then we put them together, and it's almost like building a story together. But the narrative that comes out of it is much bigger than any one particular statement that I could make. And there's just something about that that is always so exciting to me. Because as a choreographer, you cannot make a dance without other people. You know, you could make a solo on yourself. But literally you can dream up this beautiful thing that you want to do, but that dance only exists in the embodied selves of the people that do it. And if you have one person who is not there, the dance is not the same, like it is literally manifest in this group of people. And there's something about that that is so, I don't know, it just always excites me. There's a mystery about it. I never get tired of seeing what this group of people will make together.

So, yeah, I definitely don't know that that was what was in my mind as a 16-year-old camp counselor. But I'm really interested, even more so today, in drawing out really complicated stories and doing something that really is meaningful to the performers too. We spend so much of our time behind the scenes—you know, there's the moment on stage, but there's so much that's in the making and the rehearsing. That's kind of where I feel like we're living our lives. And I want that part of it to be meaningful as well. And I want the dancers to come out of it feeling like, Wow, I was a really significant part of this. If I wasn't there, it wouldn't have been the same. And my particular unique embodied expression is different than anyone else's. 

I did an intergenerational piece a few years ago that had a cast. I think the oldest person was 65, and the youngest was four. You know, everybody can do the same gesture, but there's something that's going to be really different about the embodied expression of a four-year-old lifting their hand and a 65-year-old lifting their hand—and both of them are breathtaking!

What dance teaches me about embodiment is it's just a heightened form of attention. And it heightens my attention to the fragility and vulnerability of the body, as well as the strength and amazing virtuosity of the body. It heightens my attention to time… It reminds me of our finiteness too. It reminds me of the human condition. That this body is always changing, and that this body also has a limited amount of time. But at the same time, the movements that I make reverberate. 

ECS: I think it's all really fascinating. I mean, we could probably talk for a long time about embodiment and the creative process and transformation. And I'd love to hear your thoughts on that, even how that's related to any of what you studied for this book, how embodiment not only does the sort of transformational expression that we talked about, but is there something more to embodiment that dance can teach us?

EW: I mean, I think that's such an interesting question. I think that what dance teaches me about embodiment is it's just a heightened form of attention. And it heightens my attention to the fragility and vulnerability of the body, as well as the strength and amazing virtuosity of the body. It heightens my attention to time. And, really in a way, it reminds me of our finiteness too. It reminds me of the human condition. That this body is always changing, and that this body also has a limited amount of time. But at the same time, the movements that I make reverberate. 

I keep sharing different choreographies, but I did a piece after my father died—I was trying not to make a piece about my dad's death, because it just felt like I didn't know how to do that. But I just couldn't help [it]. That's what I was processing through. And part of the work ended up being sharing images with my cast of [my] childhood memories, pictures of me and my sibling, different vignettes. And then they brought some of theirs in, and then we created these movement vignettes based on this. And none of these students had met my dad and didn't really know anything about him. But they heard about him through me, and they then embodied [him] in some way and carried on in some way the spirit that my dad passed on to me. And it was this really powerful reverberation of how my father was, in some way, still inhabiting and living through the spirit of these stories, through people that had never met him. That's what dance does for me. It's a heightened, embodied attention that feels both very finite and precious, but also somehow infinite at the same time. I don't know; it's a paradox.

ECS: So beautiful.

So in choreography, we talked a lot about your process. What was your process like trying to create this book? What was similar, what was different? Did anything feel like sort of a foreign language, or were there translatable creative processes and principles you could bring?

That's what dance does for me. It's a heightened, embodied attention that feels both very finite and precious, but also somehow infinite at the same time.

EW: I mean, I think one big contrast is that writing the book was fairly solitary. I certainly had, when I was doing my field work and my interviews and things like that, I was doing a lot of interacting with other people. But when I got into really shaping the chapters, and then into the editing process, which was, I found very arduous. That was challenging for me, because I do think that I am used to creatively working with a group in some way. So I had to figure out some of those processes. And I actually, even for a period of time, hired an editor, just to have another person to keep dialoguing my ideas with.

I really do like to have a big picture and a physicalization of my work. Having it all in the computer was also really hard, especially as it got longer. So one of the processes that I would do—which actually, I learned in a graduate writing workshop—was reverse outlining, which is printing out your pages, and then I would actually cut them out into chunks. And I would label the different chunks with different themes and words, and then I would spread them all out on the floor or on a table, and I would move them around. And so there was this thing of like, I needed to have this kind of tangible connection. And I needed to be able to move them in a way that felt more like I was actually moving my body, moving my arms, you know, peering around, versus just scrolling with my finger on a screen.

I offered the chapters where I wrote about each company to the companies to look at, you know, just to say, this is what I'm writing, and I'm making it clear these are my interpretations. But I also want you to see what's happening and if there's a strong pushback. And not everyone took me up on that, but a couple did. And so then we would have some back and forth. And I ended up doing some more interviews. So that element did start to feel creative and collaborative, because they were like, I don't understand, you know, when you say this, like, Oh, that's not how I experienced my work. And even some tension there of, well, it's okay for us to have different meanings from it too. I can make it really clear that this is my meaning, and this is how I'm reading it through these lenses, and that you don't necessarily agree with that, or that you even disagree. So trying to hold those voices in there at the same time as well. 

ECS: That's just fascinating that you managed to find a way even in this not just to put yourself out as an observer, but rather to bring in these other ensemble members, right? That's really, really fascinating. 

So when you look over your whole book and these elements of your own life, where would you like to see this move? From the pages that it's on now, what are you hoping to see it become?

EW: Well, I definitely am hoping that it will be a place for additional conversations. In fact, the two women that their chapters where we really did have some dialogues, I'm hoping that in post-pandemic times, we can actually have maybe an in-person dialogue together or even a danced dialogue and responsive process. Because one of the things that I heard back from both of them, which was also really amazing, was that some of the way that I was able to step back and observe what they were doing also honed their own self-understanding in a way that they found positive. It's also one of these things where it's like, wow, that feels like a big responsibility that they would feel like I was then informing how they were understanding what they were doing. So I'm definitely hoping to have some more of those kinds of dialogues. 

And then the other element is that I am trying to think about how this really works into my own creative work. The beginning of each chapter has a little autobiographical vignette that's some kind of memory from my own experience, childhood all the way through adulthood. And I've thought about trying to create some kind of a longer choreographic work that is really stringing those things together. It's still very much in its nascent stages, but it feels like it's part of this ongoing work of transformation for me. It's interesting what you said before about the contrast between deconstruction and transformation. I hadn't thought about it, but I do think there was a period of time where I really was trying to disconnect and divorce myself from some of the aspects of my upbringing that don't dovetail with how I feel today. But I really got to a point where I realized, I don't know that that's possible to do, because it was making those movements that actually gave me the awareness to make new movements. And I can't really unravel my story, and remove those things. And if I did, I would always be kind of, like, responding to or rejecting or kind of like pushing back in a resisting way. And I just felt like I needed to find some way to allow those aspects of my life to be there and not just come to terms with them, but figure out how to continue to grow them and move them. So it does feel like this is very much an unfinished process. And it feels like something that involves more movement, and choreography is the next step. But we'll see what happens.

ECS: Wonderful. 

As you were talking about that, is there a kind of progression or movement between these four companies—you described earlier, this idea that some of them saw themselves as evangelists, and then artists, some saw art, maybe then evangelism. Maybe there were other things out there as well. But I'm wondering about the actual movement itself and the creation movement. How would someone who’s not a dancer see these different companies and their dance styles speaking to transformation in different ways?

EW: Well, so Ballet Magnificat!, the traditional ballet company, they use a very traditional ballet vocabulary, and they create a lot of story ballets. So the same kinds of things that you would see with like the Nutcracker or Swan Lake. They actually reimagine a lot of Bible stories. And often they are reimagined into a different time period. Like, they did a story about the book of Ruth—I believe it was the book of Ruth—that they set in the 1970s in Communist Europe or Communist Russia somehow.

And then Ad Deum, which is a contemporary ballet company in Houston, Texas—they are ballet, but their ballet has a little bit more of a, you know, current flavor to it. Still, there is a narrative storyline element, but there's also some abstraction that comes in. And then Elizabeth Dishman in Brooklyn and Karin Stevens in Seattle, both of their work is very abstract and much more modern, and there's not really a clear narrative arc involved at all. And they're both younger, they're younger than the artistic directors of the other two companies. They're kind of two different generations. So there's also a little bit of the perhaps the generational arc that traces the way that contemporary dance history has gone from more literal to more abstract, and then kind of sometimes folding it back in again. But I think the lay person would be able to see a clear delineation from very literal, or more literal, to more abstract. 

ECS: It's interesting that even though you're talking about what's more abstract, you yourself kind of wedded these things together with story, right, with your anecdotes about your life and even when I hear you talking about your choreography, there's story there. That's fascinating to me that story and narrative maybe takes these different forms, or it's less, I don't know in the dance world how you would say this, but—let's take poetry; that I might know a bit better as an example. Poetry had some really specific forms. You have sonnets, you have iambic pentameter. There's that sort of definition. And then over time, we get to where a poem might be really short, very simple language with profound observation that doesn't have a rhythm that necessarily you would be able to describe like iambic pentameter, but there's certainly something about the way the words are put together that would create a rhythm. So there's still something that it's doing that’s similar to what was before, but its form is very different. Would that be a good analogy for what happens within dance, like there's still story, but it's taking on different forms, or opening us up to seeing maybe through different vocabulary?

EW: So when I'm talking about the literal story ballets, some of them even have narration that goes along with them, and there's really one meaning. There's a literal meaning that they want you to get, and there's really not much room for interpretation. And there are very clear characters there—you know, there's the good guys and the bad guys. It's got a very black-and-white energy to it. Whereas something more on the abstract end of the spectrum, there still—and I think just because it's human bodies moving, we are meaning-making beings, and I think we can't help but make meaning—but there's more space for multiple meanings to exist. And even for the dancers to have different understandings of what the work is about, and what their role in it is compared to the choreographer and the audience, it creates the space for different kinds of meanings to be made. But absolutely, meaning is still a thread. Story is still a thread throughout.

ECS: So what does writing feel like in your body?

EW: Hmm, hmm, good question. Well, again, my mentor Kimerer is the one who really informs me on this, because she talks about the practices of reading and writing as particular practices of bodily attention. And actually, the reason it's hard to think of it that way is, it's a practice where we practice ignoring our body. And if you, if you think back—I mean, I have a really strong visceral memory of learning to write with a pencil in kindergarten or first grade and really having to try hard to figure out how to fit my fingers around it. And that, you know, my body was wiggling on my chair. And I really had to figure out how to focus all my attention on this thing that I was doing, and not pay attention to my body. And so there is this constant oscillation that happens of—I do need to get myself into an environment where there's not a lot of distractions, and I really can, like, get lost in my mind. And then all of a sudden, you know, I'll feel a pain or whatever, I'll have to move around. Or, if I'm trying to describe something, some movement in particular, and I can't figure it out, I literally will start waving my arms in the air, like, I'll start moving around, to try to get the feeling of the quality in my body. And then sometimes I can come up with the word or phrase that I need to, to get that out. So it was this kind of interesting process of like—you know, I would stand up and sit down. I was very aware of constantly needing to shift around. Even as sometimes I also had to be like, okay, you really gotta have this pattern of attention happening right now. But it's still very much a movement pattern; it's still very much a bodily orientation toward something. 

One of the central claims of Christianity… is this incarnation—this body God, this God, an infinite being that inhabits a finite space… Maybe a renewed understanding of the body… could have a lot of positive ripple effects on contemporary Christian practices and beliefs.

ECS: Yeah, that's really cool. I think you're helping us to think about creativity along with our bodies in a way that you know, some mediums don't invite us as naturally to as I think dance does. So, just thinking a little bit about Vita Poetica and this idea about creative work in a spiritual lens, how would you tie together the themes that you extracted—particularly in this moment, but it can be broader—about the creative work of dance and the spiritual lens, especially of Christianity?

EW: Well, I think there is something really compelling about one of the central claims of Christianity that is this incarnation—this body God, this God, an infinite being that inhabits a finite space, and the eminence of God versus the transcendence of God. So there is something really curious to me, that it feels like it would make the body really important. So I do feel like it is this compelling thread, and that maybe a renewed understanding of the body, or a shift in understanding of the body, could have a lot of positive ripple effects on contemporary Christian practices and beliefs. 

But I think just for me personally, spirituality is about connection. It's about connecting more deeply to myself, it's about connecting more deeply to the world around me. It's about connecting more deeply to other people. And dance has always been a primary vehicle for that, that has always given me that knowledge about myself, that connection to myself. I guess it's also connecting and knowing. It's also a way to know, even when I think I know my body, every day, every hour, my body is slightly different. It's changing all the time. So there are always new things to know about it. And it changes in relationship to other people; it changes in relationship to the environment. So, yeah, it's just always felt like it's the lens that's always there. You really don't need anything else besides your body to engage with this practice.

ECS: Yeah. Really beautifully said, and I think will give all of us something to take away to experiment with. Do you have any recommendations for us? If we were going to experiment with dance and movement? You know, not all of us have this amazing history that you do. But I would love to know, what would they say to us? If you were our movement educator?

EW: Sure, well, so there are two first steps that come to mind. One is, if you already have a faith practice or a faith community that you're a part of, to just start to pay attention to—What are the movement patterns that I engage in as a part of this practice? From really simple things of, What is it like to walk in the door? You know, sitting and standing? What kinds of textures? What kinds of images, colors? What is the sensory information that you get from that experience? Is there a rhythm to it? Is there something that goes to a crescendo and then comes down? Just begin to notice those patterns. And then, Are there ways that you could amplify them? For me, it is a powerful moment, to step into a sanctuary and even just a moment of pause in that transition, stepping over that threshold, is a way to draw your attention to it more fully. So that would be one suggestion—to notice in the patterns that you're already doing. 

For me, it is a powerful moment, to step into a sanctuary and even just a moment of pause in that transition, stepping over that threshold, is a way to draw your attention to it more fully.

Another would be to think for yourself about what the experience of the sacred or spirituality or the divine feels like to you. Are there particular contexts or places or people? Are there smells or sounds? You know, sometimes being in nature can be a very spiritual experience. And so maybe it's like looking, you know, out over a vista. And so that can be another way to think about [it]—how am I bringing a sense of the sacred and spirituality to other movement practices that I have, that are maybe like taking a walk or something like that, or listening to music? But those can also be a part of your spiritual practice that makes sense. So it's like moving from one direction or the other. But thinking about the body in those ways. Does that make sense?

ECS: Yeah, thank you. I think that's really rich and will be a great way for a lot of us to invite this part of practicing creativity and spirituality together. 

Well, Emily, where can people find you and find out more about what you're doing? And do you have anything going on that you want to let us know about?

EW: Sure. So I have a website: emilywrightdance.com. And you can see links to choreography that I've made in the past. I have a blog on there. I try to do writing reflections on the seasons—the seasons have been really important to me lately—with invitations for movement or prompts there. And then I also teach a class called Movement Medicine that blends yoga and dance and contemplation. And that class is offered online and in person, if people want to drop in for a class and check it out. It's a community that I started during the pandemic and has just continued to grow. It's been really nice. So I offer those classes, usually once a week, throughout the summer, fall, spring, winter. So, that's what I've got going on right now. And I guess you can sign up for my newsletter as well on my website, and then get more updates on things that I offer in the future.

ECS: I hope a lot of people join you. I will say I've joined maybe twice on the Movement Medicine, and it was always just a really amazing experience for me. So thank you so much for all that you're doing to put your artistic self out in the world, but also to share it with so many other people, whether by inviting them to create alongside you, or just, you know, leave it out there for us to experience like you have in this book. And your book is out, and it can be ordered at Intellect Press, is that right? Could you let us know the release dates around that?

EW: Well, it came out over the summer, but then there were some printing issues. So it is out now. I have a link to it on my website as well. If you're in the U.S., because it's a U.K. publisher, it actually will send you to University of Chicago Press. That's the U.S. affiliate, so you would then purchase it through University of Chicago Press if you're in the U.S.

ECS: Thank you so much. I know that's going to be really helpful for people looking to read your book. We really appreciate it!

EW: Thanks!