Ode to Loss

When loss strikes, we have to dig deep. Such goes the saying. Looking back at the arc of my life, I realize what a large part loss has played, small and big, devastating and minor. Unexpected, and unavoidable, always carrying gifts and growth with it. Offering transformation in mysterious ways. On our life’s path, we encounter many kinds of valleys and mountains, rains and melting snow. Gentle or ferocious, our sorrow sings in streams, roars in rivers. On a steep winding trail, measured steps merge rhythmically with heartbeat. Resting on a mossed covered rock, we spot hidden mushrooms. Gratefully polishing an apple, eating it whole, leaving only the stem behind. Slices of rye bread held together with sweet butter. New ways of being, people, things, emerge miraculously. Nothing stays the same when we lose. A friend, a partner, a homeland.

That’s why I fall in love with the little blue shovel that finds me – out of the blue – at the beach in January, after the last ferocious winter storm with king tides in action. The familiar landscape turned unrecognizable. The ocean has pushed the dunes far back and up high. Steep walls of sand with massive logs sticking out in surreal display. Stunning, so much power of water and waves, so much change. Gravitational force of the full moon. My beloved beach-scape is gone. Has been completely reshaped, strewn with all kinds of debris. I feel somewhat disoriented and deeply stirred. We humans are so small in the face of Nature’s forces. Awesome. Truly. Beautiful.

Loss is a natural part of being alive. It must be known, tasted, learned from. I am fortunate to have studied and practiced “investing in loss.” When we lose the most precious, what saves us? Time, the willingness to mourn, music, art, poetry, grace and spirit. Like, when I lose within one year my Mama, my husband of 25 years, and my best friend, colleague, confidant. All three the most important people in my life. With it, I lose financial stability, am devastated. Years later, when I lose within four months my beloved 140-year-old Mama Oak under whose arms I slept every night for 16 years, as well as my step daughter murdered by her husband who then kills himself – it breaks my heart. Or losing Uncle Oak, or my beloved Papa to early death. Or in San Francisco’s 1980’s, my many, many young students, friends, fellow performers and artists dying from AIDS. How precious life is.

The American myth or demand that we should always be strong, up, good, great, is false. And ultimately depressing because it does not allow us to experience the range of dynamics necessary for transformation. It could be our home, family, or country, our safety and freedom, our health, hearing, sight, our voice, a limb.  When loss strikes, our true self has a chance to show up, step forward. Life seems to push us down, but invisible growth is happening. We roam the deeper realms, meander through the valley of sorrow.  Heal old wounds. Discover yet unknown soul capacities. Inescapably, we are being molded. Surrendering, yielding, we are reshaped like the beach.  Here we find anew our balance and heart, our spirit’s destiny and strength. Consolation. After a while our imagination unfolds its wings. A little blue angel, or a shovel, might show up just when needed. We rise from the ashes… we become the tool. Over and over again. Growing within. Finding, losing....

How many hands touched this shovel? Traveling in the ocean

a mysterious line of existence reaching all the way to me 

admiring the thick crust of rust falling off the handle

as it dries over time on my decomposing table

the heart breaking open – true beingness

escaping the protective shell

the natural wonder

in our smallness

is beauty

awe

Many of my films are about loss, about healing, about soul and spirit. About the invisible world. What is brought onto the screen is my way of seeing the world, recognizing the light in the dark. Life is filled with tragedy and joy, always both. This intimate dynamic holds immense tension and potential. Here we co-create. The process is intense. Alchemical and transformative. Cinema, like other art mediums, mirror my approach to life. Daily I am inspired by the small and poignant poetry in ordinary things or happenings. Sometimes powerfully moved by a small gesture. Like the French baker's Vietnamese wife returning my change, offering the bills to me with both hands, smiling and gently bowing – pure grace and gratitude. We've become the tool.

 

When in the fall of 2003, seeing by accident Alonzo King’s pas de deux for one-legged Homer Avila and two-legged Andrea Flores, I feel an overwhelming irresistible calling I cannot refuse. Along the way though, many temptations to give up. Dancing with the camera, connecting intimately with the choreographer and dancers, being attuned to deeper meaning, music, and to Homer’s struggles, all that comes easily and naturally to me. But logistical hindrances, extreme limitations with funding, the difficulties of holding tight to my original vision for this documentary as a piece of poetry, all of it requires me to dig deep, to keep rekindling my dedication and listening. Spirit moves body. If Homer can do it, I am obliged to follow through so his legacy can live on. Cinema as tool and inspiration. Not only Homer, but also Alonzo, his choreography, Andrea, and I, the filmmaker, we all become tools – so Spirit can tell a tale via cinema for many to be inspired….

Phoenix Dance

In my 2006 short film (shortlisted for Academy Award, shown on big screens all over the world)

choreographer Alonzo King speaks about deep soul movement when loss strikes, like

losing a leg, and having to reinvent yourself as one-legged dancer

without crutches. Behold impossible beauty.

 

Note: Click the link Phoenix Dance for streaming. Not on your phone please, but on a computer or TV screen. The film was made for the big screen (theaters) – I even have a film print of it. The bigger your screen the better, it will read more powerfully, viscerally.  Watch it with friends, so you can share what moves you. As always, people who view it multiple times keep discovering new meanings and details.

More about the film

https://karinalandriver.blogspot.com/2021/10/phoenix-dance-is-one-of-my-film.html