unruly movements
on what it means to move, together and alone
Happy October everyone! Where is 2023 going?! Actually let’s not dwell on all that here, because this newsletter is supposed to be a space of support and reflection, not a space where we all collectively descend into panic. Time passes, as it must. These past couple of months I’ve been thinking a lot about my relationship to moving my body, what it means to move together as collective.
In September I went to see Beyonce by myself. It was the only day I could go so I got a nosebleed ticket and a couple hours later, there I was. Beyonce! I almost cried when she came onstage. You can critique Beyonce all you want, and you should too, but who can deny her talent? Who can deny her reach? Her longevity? I’m not even Beyhive like that, but, seriously what a show. Everyone danced, everyone screamed the lyrics, everyone reached out their hand towards the stage, trying to hold on to the energy that emanated from her. When it was over, I moved with the crowd, one amongst thousands of people descending the stairs, exiting the stadium, the Ubers parked a thirty minute walk away marking the end of our pilgrimage. It was only when I got into bed that I realized how tired my body was from dancing, my throat ached the next day from singing at the top of my lungs.
The older I get, the more I love to bear witness to seeing people move with a sense of freedom. Maybe this is because I spent most of my formative and young adult life in Pakistan, and felt constrained in my movements, as many people do. For young women in Pakistan, movement is not particularly encouraged. Playing sports is tolerated at best, dancing - if permitted - is limited to weddings, traversing public space is considered out of the question. Women’s bodies, particularly, are not thought of as extensions of the spirit, but as receptacles of societal function. Every movement must have a tangible purpose; washing the dishes, cooking, tending to the young, tending to the old, pleasing men. And then, of course, there is sanctioned movement when you are told to lose weight for a wedding, or after having a baby. For a long time, I felt my body was a burden. I am sure many of my readers have felt the same. And yet, the fact of having a body cannot be kept from us! its in the moments where you feel unburdened by it, alone, perhaps. when you dance a little, sing an old song, when you stretch from head to toe and feel the world open up, when you ride a bicycle for the first time since you were a child. I’m so desirous of witnessing such moments, and these mutual feelings of constraint means many others are too. The popularity of one of my favourite IG pages, Women at Leisure, serves as proof.
And then, there is the joy, so sharp it’ll move you to tears, of witnessing people move together in a sudden burst of freedom; my mother dancing at my wedding with her sisters, friends entangled on a dance floor with no sense of time, feminists at rallies in public spaces, moving together with the knowledge that together we are the world. Our bodies are nurtured and strengthened by the release of moving in community.
For many years I thought of my body as something to discipline in isolation, and this idea only lessened its hold on me when I began to move my body without judgement and also when I began to be okay with moving it amongst other people. For eight years now I’ve practiced yoga, sometimes alone and sometimes in community with others. It has been the most consistent thing in my life. My practice has given me immeasurable amounts of joy and pleasure. Still no matter how much movement gave me, I would always compartmentalize my practice. My intellectual work, writing, was how I thought I understood the world. Why, when movement can tell you just as much about the world, if only one cared to look close enough? After all, in today’s world, who gets to move? Who has the resources to do so? The time and space? Who gets to define what '*is* and what *is not* movement? Tied to this, how do we judge bodies? Ascertain their health? A non exhaustive list of other themes that movement highlights: demanding cities that allow walking and movement, parks where we can experience leisure, movement for everyone and not just a select few who can afford expensive gym memberships, moving together as a way to build community and solidarity, encouraging and facilitating those who are denied movement and building space for them.
Rosa Parks practicing yoga at an event. From the Rosa Parks Papers, Library of Congress. Date unknown.
Every time a yoga teacher guides me towards understanding my body in a deeper sense, I learn to better understand myself. In the last couple of years I have also trained as a teacher, so I can pass on this lesson and teach others to move with a greater sense of freedom. I’m so excited to potentially teach more classes in the new year! In the meantime, I have started a yoga page. If you have IG, do consider following me! There’s so much more I want to share about my relationship to movement, as I continue to use this space and others to talk and write about wellness, beauty, fashion and media cultures. All great ideas, sure, but the day to day of having a yoga instagram means quite frankly trying to beat the algorithm. No point in prizing intellectual work over physical or social media work when really, it’s all labour baby! We’re all struggling against the tide in so many ways. Which is why I’m so grateful for this newsletter and for my readers, for allowing me to write exactly how I want to and for giving me grace when I cannot.
What I’ve been reading:
Been entirely blessed to read Yara Rodrigues Fowler’s latest novel, which came out last year. There are more things. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever read previously. If you like slightly experimental novels, then you’ll def like it. It’s got queer activists, women living alone in London, chosen families, family drama, contemporary politics and also leftist Brazilian history. I very much enjoyed it.
Also,
My dear friend, Sadia Khatri’s, essay up on Wasafiri!
The excellent first issue of Lakeer Magazine! Many congrats to the editorial board as well as the writers in this first issue.
I confess, I’ve watched nothing recently except Love is Blind and Instagram reels. Since seeing Beyonce live, i have only listened to Beyonce.
That’s all from me for now! Till next time xxx