Belly Dancing and Women’s Spirituality: A Journey of
Discovery
By Barbara Brandt, 1999
I grew up in a theatrical family in New
York City. Even as a young child I enjoyed music, dancing, dressing up in
costumes, and performing dramatically in front of other people, as almost second
nature. But my inherent personality also tended toward intellectuality and an
interest in society and spirituality. So in the 1960’s I was living in Boston,
studying sociology in graduate school, when I saw a belly dancer for the first
time. The moment I heard that music, felt those rhythms, saw that costume,
watched (and sensed) those movements, I knew: “I can do this – I have to do
this dance.”
By 1970 I had become a professional
belly dancer. Bedecked in revealing, glamorous outfits, I slithered and
shimmied in Greek nightclubs and Arabic restaurants around New England. I
especially loved the floorwork, which all professional belly dancers did in
those days.
The year 1970 was also the start of the
modern Women’s Liberation movement, and it was very big in the Boston area.
Thousands of women were studying karate, cutting their hair short, and walking
around in army boots.
So there I was, enjoying myself
tremendously, writhing around on the floor of a Greek restaurant in Cambridge,
Massachusetts in my stage make-up, glittering jewelry, and skimpy costume, and
these women my age their cropped hair and army boots would walk in and look at
me. Appalled. “What are you doing down there?” they would exclaim. “Your dance
epitomizes women’s subjugation to the patriarchy! You’re a traitor to the
revolution!”
Now I knew that I wasn’t a traitor to
the revolution. I had been a career oriented intellectual when most women my
age were afraid to assert themselves and were still trying to fit into the
conventional “feminine” roles. Not only that, but I had also attended some of
the original women’s liberation conferences in Boston, cheered the karate
demonstrations; I even led a workshop on “Women and our Bodies”. Nevertheless,
I could understand why these woman responded the way they did.
I wanted to say to them, “Believe me – I
am not writhing around in a skimpy costume in order to be seductive or
subservient to men. There is some deep spiritual reason that compels me to do
this dance.” I just didn’t know what it was.
I didn’t feel comfortable with all the
usual stereotypes – dancing for the sultan in the harem, etc. I wanted to find
out what this dance was really about. Why did we do these particular moves?
What story was this dance trying to tell? Why did we wear an outfit that left
the torso bare? Why did we isolate and roll our abdominal muscles? Why did we
play finger cymbals? Why did the dance include writhing around on the floor?
The belly dance performances I saw in the 1960’s and 70’s, which combined all
the elements, intuitively felt right to me. Now I wanted to find out why.
My only clue came from the famous New
York dancer “Morocco”. (“Rocky” also had a PhD in political science from
Columbia University and spoke 8 languages.) In an article she wrote for The
Young Doctor magazine, she explained that belly dancing is actually a
childbirth dance. Its postures and movements are not only a form of
childbirth preparation exercise; they also imitate the movements and processes
of a woman in the act of giving birth. (Thus the floorwork and abdominal rolls,
which depict the contractions of labor.) This was not mere speculation.
“Rocky” had actually visited a remote village in the Middle East in the 1960’s,
where she saw the women gather around a pregnant woman and move their bodies in
unison with her as she went through labor.
This all made sense to me, but since I
had never had children myself, I checked it out with Gigi Devitt, a friend of
mine who was studying belly dancing and worked as a natural childbirth coach.
Not only did she confirm Morocco’s interpretation – Gigi and I co-authored an
article that showed the many correlations between belly dancing and childbirth,
and we went around giving lecture-demonstrations based on it. Gigi would speak
about the connections; I would demonstrate the different movements, than I would
perform a complete dance. One of my proudest and most touching moments was
giving this presentation at a women’s liberation conference. After I had
finished dancing, women came up to me with tears in their eyes, telling me that
as a result of our presentation, they could now see this dance as a source of
women’s power and beauty.
Linking the dance back to childbirth was
liberating and empowering for me, as well, but it still didn’t answer my quest
completely. For one thing, I had never had a child, nor did I intend to. There
had to be something more that I still needed to learn about the deeper meaning
of belly dancing.
It wasn’t until the late 1980’s, when so
much research began to appear about the many ancient matriarchal cultures and
Goddess-oriented religions which had once existed around the world, but which
were wiped out, that the final pieces fell into place. Many women I knew were
now exploring “women’s spirituality”, and literally creating a new culture based
on this approach.
I sensed that belly dancing was
connected to all this, and in 1990 I determined that I was going to teach
classes in “Belly Dancing and Women’s Spirituality.” Since I had no idea what
this meant, I did various kinds of research, including reading all 600-plus
pages of The Woman’s Dictionary of Symbols and Sacred Objects by Barbara
Walker. As I read through his book and looked at the numerous pictures and
images, I recognized many connections between the sacred symbols Walker was
describing and belly dancing. (The author wasn’t aware of them since she was
not a belly dancer, but because I had been studying, performing, and teaching
this art for 20 years, the connections were obvious to me.)
I discovered women’s spirituality-
related explanations for veils, finger symbols, and many of the typical
movements and postures of our dance. For me, the most significant discovery was
the entry which stated that back when people worshipped a Great Goddess (rather
than a male God), they believed that the goddess created the world by giving
birth to it, the same way that women give birth to children.
As I read these words, it all came
together! I suddenly envisioned the Great Goddess, full-bodied and powerful,
almost naked except for some necklaces and a jingly belt around her hips,
squatting as the round earth emerged from the sacred opening between her legs.
This was the connection I had been looking for!
I intuited: Belly dancing in its
earliest origins is a dance about the creation of the world by the Great Goddess
– and it was done many thousands of years ago, both as a sacred ritual and
Creation story, and also to honor women as representatives of the Goddess and
creators of life here on earth.
With this insight, I went out and began
teaching classes in “Belly Dancing and Women’s Spirituality.” Dozens of women
came to these classes, and were so inspired that soon thereafter a group of us
jointly birthed “The Goddess Dancing” – a collaborative that for many years now
has taught and further developed the work of bringing belly dancing to the world
as a sacred women’s dance. What a wonderful gift on this journey!
Copyright 1999 by Barbara Brandt. Used
with permission.
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