January 20, 2023

There’s power in dance. It’s good for mental, physical and spiritual health. But like religion, dancing sometimes requires a leap of faith.

“It is through the doing that we become,” Jewish Iraqi American writer, activist and musician Loolwa Khazzoom told the Journal. “We don’t feel spiritual, then pray. We pray, and through that act, we feel spiritual. Similarly, the last thing you want to do when you’re in excruciating pain is to dance. But if you dance, the pain subsides. Na’aseh v’nishma. We will do, then we will listen.”

Khazzoom created Dancing with Pain®, an innovative method for healing from chronic pain, so others could benefit from her experience and discovery. 

In 1997, Khazzoom was in a hit-and-run, head-on car collision. She initially suffered acute back pain and, due to medical negligence, went from bad to worse. She suffered from calcified and degenerated discs in every section of her spine, along with arthritis in both hips, a dislocated right shoulder, a torn meniscus in her right knee and various injuries in her ankles and wrists. 

Over the course of the next decade, she ended up alternately bedridden, housebound and wheelchair-bound. Prior to the accident, Khazzoom was athletic, regularly jogging 12 miles and swimming six miles at a time.

“I rejected the surgery, and allowed myself the time and determination to figure out something else — another option that was not yet visible, but which I deeply sensed must be possible,” she said.

A series of serendipitous experiences led Khazzoom to an epiphany: by reconceptualizing dance as more than leaps, twirls and fancy footwork, she could use it to heal herself. 

Khazzoom started “dancing” with whatever part of her body was not in pain. Initially, this was only her arms. Within as little as an hour, she would go from limping to leaping. In the beginning, she would wake up with a pain level of about seven or eight. After dancing, the pain would go down to a two or three xz. But the next day the pain would return. Yet, she was grateful that she had something to temper the pain each day. 

Over the years, she continued her daily dance practice, and the healing gradually snuck up on her. One morning in 2009, she woke up feeling great. It was her first pain-free day in years. Not long after, she had a pain-free week then a pain-free month. Soon, she was mostly pain-free, with only occasional setbacks. Within a few years from that turning point, she reclaimed her body and her life. 

Khazzoom started teaching Dancing with Pain classes in 2008, which are now available online.

So, how does it work?

“You dance from whatever position makes you feel best, whether lying down, sitting or standing,” she said. 

For those suffering from excruciating pain throughout their body, these movements can just be in the imagination and tiny physical motions. 

The core principle, Khazzoom explained, is that you don’t say, “I can’t,” but rather, ask, “How can I?” 

“You move in whatever ways the body is able to do with comfort and ease, to music that inspires, soothes or energizes you,” she said. 

Repeating this practice over time strengthens and amplifies the results. 

“Over the course of about five years of this practice, I went from being bedridden to being able to bike 30 miles at a shot,” she said.

More advanced students learn to dance from and with pain. 

“In the first case, you channel the energy of the pain, so that it essentially is recycled to heal itself, similar to how a runner can channel anger to fuel a powerful workout,” Khazzoom said. “In the second case, you imagine the pain as a dance partner, and can have a lot of fun with that.” 

For example, by making goofy faces, it reduces your pain’s hold on the psyche, and puts you in control of your perception and experience of pain.

“While I did not consciously apply Jewish values in the development of this dance methodology, I see parallels of how Jews approach matters,” Khazzoom said. “We turn to music, story and food — all powerful forms of artistic self-expression — to cope with our collective pain. We elevate and transform through Jewish art.” 

When God chose to give us the Torah, Khazzoom said, “We were the only nation who did not first ask what was in it. A portal opens when we commit ourselves, and our reality can change in a nanosecond. In this way, Dancing with Pain® is a profoundly mystical experience.”

5 Steps for Dancing with Pain at Home

1. Turn On Music. Put on music that inspires, soothes or energies you. You can be lying down, crumpled up in bed from pain or in a foul mood in your wheelchair. Just put that music on.
2. Close Your Eyes and Scan Your Body. Say “hello” to the places in pain, so they feel acknowledged, and then move on. Also, look for the places in your body that are not in pain. For now, that might only be in your imagination, but it matters for your physical transformation.
3. Drink in the Music. Actively invite the music to permeate your body. Imagine it as a warm, soothing mist. Actively direct it to the places in your body that are not in pain. Again, that can be in your imagination. 
4. Allow the Music to Dance You. That is not a typo. Invite the music to step into the driver’s seat of your body. Allow your body to respond to the music organically. How does it make you feel? How does that feeling want to move in your body?
   Be gentle with yourself; no pressure. It’s totally okay to lie perfectly still, simply experiencing the sound. At some point, your body is likely to begin moving in natural response to the music. 
5. When you Move, Stay Aware of Your Sensations. You have many body parts to move, and many directions in which you can move: up and down, side to side, in circular motions. The movements can be tiny or big. This is your dance. There is no right or wrong way to do it. Just move in ways that feel good. If at any time you feel pain, stop. 

The dance should always — and only — feel good. If it doesn’t feel good when you move your body, dance in your imagination. Allow the process of healing to unfold on its own time.

“We’re surrounded by kind people,” author Matthew J. Goldberg told the Journal. “We don’t necessarily meet [them].”

During the first fall of the pandemic, Goldberg lost his wedding ring. In November 2020 he was taking a walk with his wife, son and dog, when he saw a sign, “Ring Found.” 

“It was found by the nicest people in the world who happened to be walking their dogs,” Goldberg told the Journal. “They were as happy for me to be reunited with my ring as I was. It was fortuitous good luck, but it was also their kindness.” 

Goldberg, who lives in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, wrote up the story and posted it on his township’s Facebook page. It got a huge reaction, including someone who suggested it would be good for a book. Goldberg had already published an eclectic mix of books, focusing on everything from the joy and humor of parenthood to the agony and ecstasy of being a Philadelphia sports fan. He considered what a project like that would look like.

About two years later, it finally came to fruition.

“Rings of Kindness” is a compilation of true stories of acts of kindness received, as written by Goldberg and more than 80 contributing writers. These acts of kindness — some small and others quite heroic — made a difference in the lives of each of the writers who shared them. 

Contributors range in age from high school students to senior citizens, and about 20 of the writers are based in Los Angeles. Their stories took place in schools, subway stations and stadiums, during concerts and the horrors of The Holocaust. 

“I really think that we can spread kindness through our stories of kindness,” Goldberg said. “I decided the parameters should be acts of kindness from someone we weren’t closely connected with at the time: not a family member, not a significant other, not a close friend. If friendships or romances developed, so be it.” 

While “Rings of Kindness” is non-denominational and written for a wide-ranging readership, Goldberg, who is also a long time Jewish educator, believes this book will especially resonate with Jewish audiences.

“Not only are many of the contributing writers Jewish, but a common element of these stories is empathy — and perhaps, less about tzedakah and more about chesed — extending acts of loving kindness, inspired by empathy.” – Matthew J. Goldberg

“Not only are many of the contributing writers Jewish, but a common element of these stories is empathy — and perhaps, less about tzedakah and more about chesed — extending acts of loving kindness, inspired by empathy,” Goldberg said. “I’m giving a talk in an adult education class at the JCC, and it’ll be great to hear how they react to the stories.”

While Goldberg managed to gather a few stories in the early stages of this project, it wasn’t until he connected with producer/writer/actor Wendy Hammers that it started to move forward.

“It was a creative shitach,” Hammers told the Journal.

Hammers is also from New Jersey, and her parents, who lived there until they passed recently, met Goldberg at a book fair in Collingswood. 

“They struck up a conversation, as Jewish parents do,” she said. “They said, ‘Oh, you should know my daughter. She’s fabulous. She lives in Los Angeles.” Hammer said although her parents were big film buffs, they didn’t really know how business in Los Angeles actually worked.  “My dad would literally say something like, ‘Steven Spielberg seems very nice. He’s Jewish. You’re Jewish. You should call him. I’m sure he’d be happy to hear from you.’” 

While it doesn’t usually work that way, this time it did.

Goldberg called Hammers, and asked if she’d like to be part of the book. Hammer, who also teaches writing, replied, “yes,” and asked if she could share the opportunity with her students. 

“I believe the most Jewish part of me is that I have a real, strong need to connect people and create community, which I do through my storytelling series, ‘Tasty Words,’” she said, “And which I do with my classes and, hopefully, in my life.”

Hammers started “Tasty Words” 21 years ago as a way to tell her stories and create a place where she and her friends could go on stage and share what’s going on around them. “Tasty Words” — which has had hundreds of shows and thousands of performers — is also a podcast.  

On January 29, the 20 L.A.-based storytellers will be sharing their stories at Hammers’ “Tasty Words” salon show, which starts at 3:30 pm, and takes place in a private room at La Puglia in Santa Monica. Goldberg, who has never been to LA, will be joining the event. 

“Connecting with Wendy was, and still is, a great blessing,” Goldberg said. “It was wonderful that she took to the project and got so many people involved with it.”

One of Hammers’ students, L.A. filmmaker and education advocate Harri James-O’Kelley, said, “It means the world to me to share my story in a book that is filled with kindness, and mitzvot.” James-O’Kelley’s story is about the random act of kindness that is an organ donation that saved her daughter’s life.

“I wrote my story during the holiest of times between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur,” she said. It was so perfect to be writing about gratitude and kindness, and the gift of life.”

Goldberg said that kindness starts with empathy for others, increasing joy, lessening pain and sharing experiences.  “There’s certainly the sense of tikkun olam – of repairing the world – together,” he said. “It just ties in.” Hammers added, “Part of the way we repair the world is with storytelling. We share our stories so that people know they’re not alone. It makes the world a sweeter, smaller place.”

To learn more about the January 29 event and “Rings of Kindness,” go to TastyWords.com or MatthewJGoldberg.com.