Tea time w/Nejla - The Aging Body as Avant-Garde
Friday, July 31st, 2026The Aging Body as Avant-Garde
For a long time, dance taught me to look toward youth,
toward speed, reach, risk, possibility.
Youth carries the future. It always has.
And alongside that, I feel a growing question or awareness around aging arising.
The body doesn’t disappear as it ages. But our relationship to it changes.
Often, we still recognize ourselves as the person we once were.
The younger body lives vividly in memory and
sometimes more clearly than the one we inhabit now.
There can be a gap between who we feel we are
and what we see when we move.
Dancing has always taught me about consequence and recovery.
That was never new.
What feels different now is learning to recognize myself again by being more present
Everything I’ve lived remains training, repetition, injuries, joy, devotion.
In Ouroboros, time doesn’t move forward. It circles.
The dance keeps asking me to meet myself where I am and at the same time where I remember being.
My range may change. My tempo shifts. But the meaning of movement deepens.
A pauses become articulate. the silence I hold is information.
Sometimes I notice the audience leaning in when nothing happens as if they recognize something familiar in that waiting.
I’m not dancing to return to who I was. I’m dancing to stay in relationship with who I am becoming.
The challenge is not the aging body. It’s learning to see ourselves inside it.
My body isn’t behind time.
It is time moving, changing, remembering, still dancing.
Reflection
Youth brings momentum. Age brings texture.
Both belong.
The body doesn’t lose knowledge with time. It rearranges it.
What deepens is not effort, but listening.
Aging asks us to recognize ourselves again and again.
For a long time, dance taught me to look toward youth,
toward speed, reach, risk, possibility.
Youth carries the future. It always has.
And alongside that, I feel a growing question or awareness around aging arising.
The body doesn’t disappear as it ages. But our relationship to it changes.
Often, we still recognize ourselves as the person we once were.
The younger body lives vividly in memory and
sometimes more clearly than the one we inhabit now.
There can be a gap between who we feel we are
and what we see when we move.
Dancing has always taught me about consequence and recovery.
That was never new.
What feels different now is learning to recognize myself again by being more present
Everything I’ve lived remains training, repetition, injuries, joy, devotion.
In Ouroboros, time doesn’t move forward. It circles.
The dance keeps asking me to meet myself where I am and at the same time where I remember being.
My range may change. My tempo shifts. But the meaning of movement deepens.
A pauses become articulate. the silence I hold is information.
Sometimes I notice the audience leaning in when nothing happens as if they recognize something familiar in that waiting.
I’m not dancing to return to who I was. I’m dancing to stay in relationship with who I am becoming.
The challenge is not the aging body. It’s learning to see ourselves inside it.
My body isn’t behind time.
It is time moving, changing, remembering, still dancing.
Reflection
Youth brings momentum. Age brings texture.
Both belong.
The body doesn’t lose knowledge with time. It rearranges it.
What deepens is not effort, but listening.
Aging asks us to recognize ourselves again and again.
Movement Prompt
Stand or sit quietly.
Without moving, notice how you imagine your body.
Then gently begin to move and feel the body that is actually here.
Let sensation replace memory.
Allow the movement to be simple.
Pause often.
Ask softly: Can I recognize myself in the body I am today?
