My research has always been embodied. Forgasz and McDonough (2017) define embodied learning as a “meaning-making process in which we employ our bodies to feel our way into knowing and to physically express ourselves in order to make ourselves known to others” (p. 58). While this and other definitions of embodiment refer to the contribution of bodily sensations to the production of embodied knowledge, the implication of such a general statement is that an individual body’s sensing and feeling will lead to an individual’s awareness of embodied knowledge.
I realized following a recent choreographic foray that nearly all of my research has in some way touched on aspects of how we feel close or distanced to ourselves, others, and our environments through embodied knowing. The incandescent poet David Whyte describes the intimacy that occurs when we allow ourselves to grow truly close with others. In his poem entitled “Close,” I found myself lingering with the following line, “to go beyond our normal identities and become closer than close is to lose our sense of self in temporary joy, a form of arrival that only opens us to deeper forms of intimacy that blur our fixed, controlling, surface identity.” I used to think that this intimate sensing of joy was most easily experienced through certain forms of dance like contact improvisation, or at least, joint movement improvisation, where joy is often unmistakably felt and simultaneous physical presence can allow for an intimacy that permeates more deeply than the controlled displays of identity that often accompany verbal exchanges. As a scholar of Communication and Culture, I have come to the question: How do we embody closeness in our research and in our lives? With dance it’s often obvious, with our flesh against one another’s flesh–when we are each other’s meeting points–essential parts of each other’s processes. As pedestrians, traversing shared public spaces like sidewalks and streets, a sense of social intimacy is often conversely embodied by how we make room for one another when our goals are linear movement through space.
The intensities of losing an isolated sense of self through intimacy, joy, or closeness are inextricably connected to our mutual sensing of one another through matters of energy, speed, and stillness. Much like the oft-referred to kinesphere, which commonly involves the range of space that a body can reach through its furthest extremities, the meaning of embodiment for me has come to include the social space within our influence. This can include the space within the reach of our gaze, which widens when we soften into peripheral vision. “Embodied,” in other words, for me within the scope of my work, refers to all within our energetic reach.