kinesthetic empathy

I remember many times in my life where I have had to accommodate mine, as well as others illnesses, both physical and mental. A prominent experience of my childhood, and a gateway to kinesthetic empathy, occurred when I was 11 years old. “Can you see me Nana?” I asked in my much higher eleven year old voice. “I can see your figure, but no details.” She replied. My parent figure, my Nana, was going blind quickly, and also losing her mind at the same time as stage 4 brain cancer took over her entire body. I remember feeling such a deep sense of sadness in my young body, as I pictured my Nana losing touch with the visual world around her. 

From that point forward, I had a daily practice that I incorporated into my routine. What was it you ask? Well, when I would shower I would keep my eyes closed the whole time and use nothing but my sense of smell to guide the process of lathering my small body and rinsing off. Objectively, this was maybe not the safest practice, but on an emotional level this was my way of connecting with my parent’s newly and quickly developing disability. 

“You chose to dance because I can’t see you dance, and you don’t want me to be part of it!” My nana proclaimed when I was no more then 12 years old. That wasn’t true, but she was loosing her mind, and she felt so distant from me, and perhaps this was the best she could do to express herself. To make her feel included in my new passion for dance, I created a special piece for her to the song “Broken Together” by Casting Crowns. Though she could not see me, the lyrics symbolized our togetherness though she could no longer watch me move. 

She came to watch me perform, and though it took a very expensive van to get her in and out of the performance space in her wheelchair, she successfully made it there to “watch” me perform.

 I consider my early experiences with her to be my first understanding of working with, and empathizing with differently abled individuals. It taught me a lot about what kinesthetic empathy can be, because in my small body, that made more sense to me than words.