MythDance

A Ritual journey of embodied storytelling

with live drumming in the forest

Upcoming Events:

• Stay tuned here and on my special events page for a super exciting up-and-coming collaboration in 2026…

MythDance is weaving of movement, meditation, and story. Through practices of embodiment and imagination, we bring to life the stories that want to be told.

Myths are stories which have been told throughout the ages; they speak both to our personal stories and to the stories present in the collective. We look into the Soul of the Self, into the Soul of the Collective, and dance these stories into being in a new way. In telling our story, we heal. In creating our story, we evolve.

May we listen more deeply to ourselves, to each other, and to the Truth held within the myth...

MythDance is currently in its fourth incarnation. Click the button below to discover more…but first:

You can read about the story behind the storytelling here.

After each MythDance, a poem-gift is woven, in honor of the journey and words spoken from the dancers, in honor of Life. Please scroll down for both text and audio versions.

Myths Danced

Poems from our journeys, as a gift for you…

Return of the Sun

30 April 2026

The river of the ancestors

Flows through

Sun-lit rock fields

Underground.

I only

Found it

Because I stopped

One day

To pray:

“God, shine your Light into the

Waters of my Being!”

We commanded.

We cried.

We ached.

We made peace

As the breaking

Rocks, contracts and cages

Shook the river free

Oh, gratitude of grace!

The Earth had closed

Her lips over its singing

Silver tongues

Long ago

For safe-keeping

Bracing the impact

Of its loss

With her thoughts

Of one day finding it again...

But now -

Gratitude of Grace!

Now is not the time for

Safe-keeping

Or for cages

Or for the grey garments

Of ages gone by

Tightly woven,
Tightly woven...

Pry your fingers loose,

Child

You must not hold

The threads

Of the world together

Better to surrender,

To this river spilling over

Onto banks

Of nettle and heather

Better to listen to

This river

Of your own living blood,

The one below the surface,

The one that remembers:

What has been lost and frozen

Will be returned

To the light of the Sun

You will come to

That overflowing revelation

Of your Being

As you have always

Done