Nordic

Amborg. Holmfrid. Inga. Olaf. Do these names inspire passion, visions of windswept vistas, heaving chests of toned muscle or full bosom? Can you imagine them as dance partners, steaming up the lenses of the audience while engaging in a full-frontal tango? Or is the conjured vision one of clay-soil-toiling, no-nonsense sea gleaners, inhabitants of the short-seasoned north? Ah, such is the joy of being Nordic.

The long-wintered northern climes of Europe, produced a people who worked hard for survival. The short growing season required constant labor to produce the food that would last through the winter. Root cellars and smoke houses were common, vegetable pickling increased the storage longevity of produce, and crops were grown then stored for the animals, winter’s source of protein. Men, women, and children spent their time on food production, as well as the felling of trees, and splitting firewood for winter warmth. The long winters were busy with the caring of animals, keeping the fires burning, telling stories, and celebrating holidays. These people groups did dance, even with closely held couples swirling around the dance floor, but the image of groups of women, dressed in layered skirts, scarves, aprons, hands on hips as if in disapproval, scooting around the dance floor with care, is the one I connect with.

In my house, we grew up Nordic with the added constraint of my parents’ very conservative religious upbringing. In fairness, our upbringing was looser than the one my parent’s endured, but practically speaking, it was still:

We don’t drink, smoke, chew or go with girls who do.

You can insert the word dance in between ‘smoke’ and ‘chew’. In a theological nutshell, people are born bad because of Adam and Eve’s misstep, and the physical body is the vehicle for this badness. Ergo, one must control one’s body and behavior to avoid the appearance of badness.

At the deepest core of their being, humans respond to beauty, to music. Little kids live in the moment. Small children are accepting, forgiving, responsive. They learn  judgement, intolerance, inhibition, and self-loathing. I don’t remember what was playing, perhaps it was the soundtrack to Disney’s Snow White, but my sisters and I were dancing around the living room. I remember the laughing, the fun, the silliness of it. I also remember my mom’s words:

Girls, don’t wiggle your bottoms.

She made this statement on more than one occasion and it did the job. Now, while it seemed that gossip was acceptable, moving one’s body was not. I became stunted. I didn’t learn how to move my body, even to  where my feet wore cement shoes while playing tennis. I hated school dances, which we went to, go figure, as I had no skills to use there.

Encouraging or discouraging, words spoken at a pivotal point in a child’s life will have devastating effect; devastatingly good or bad. Today, I’m married to man who doesn’t dance with his body but who creates music that bodies can move to. I’m mother to a boy who has rhythm coursing through his veins. I choose to stretch myself, dancing goofily with my son, responding with movement when he creates a groove or highlights a piece of music that intrigues him. I have danced along with the theme music of various video games at the behest of my boy. I practice yoga and karate, creating a connection between my mind and my muscles. I do believe in a creator God. I believe that God’s creation is good and I am part of that creation. With all respect to my ancestors, I have stopped using Nordic as an excuse and have started rewriting my story.

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “Nordic

  1. You literally took my breath away. I was delightedly reading along and you zoomed me with the last sentence. The gasp followied with a full out burst into tears. The reality that we get to honor those who have gone before and yet write our own story. In fact stop the story we have been writing and continue on telling our own new story. I love you and I love what you are discovering about you and that you are developing this beautiful gift you have to paint pictures with words. Keep growing – you make me laugh and cry and feel deeply. Thank you.

  2. Pingback: Kale | Raised By Wolves

  3. I have a version of this, too, from the tradition I was raised in. Q: Do you know why Baptists don’t approve of having sex while standing? A: Because it might lead to dancing.

    Keep exploring Rebel You! 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s