Show me a dance floor and I will show myself up, I said to a stranger, or maybe a friend in the making. We were sitting in a pause between Stillness and the second wave and in tiny groups just getting to share who we are. She'd asked why I come. Because I love to dance, I said, show me a dance floor and…
And there it is. I dance badly, and with only my own sense of rhythm and with limited co-ordination. But I dance with joy, my body expressing what my face often doesn't. The card on my altar reads When I'm connected to my joyful presence I attract support from the universe.
The dance is magical in that it simultaneously brings me back to myself and frees me from my 'self'. I think this was my fourth outing into a shared 5 Rhythms experience and I am finding my confidence in my expression growing as I become more aware of my body and wanting to use it. And let's face it, what could ever be more joyful than being lost in the music, connecting through the music to all the other dancers in the room, to the people we've danced with in other places at other times, to the musicians and singers we'll never meet, to the rhythms, to life?
Whether we are dancers or not, music moves us. I believe we are ALL dancers, even those who will never have the courage to walk onto a full dance floor, let alone an empty one, they too are moved by music –not just emotionally moved, but physically too. The body will respond by the tapping of the feet or drumming of fingers or the nodding of the head or the surreptitious strumming of an air guitar. It is all dance.
Gabriella Roth encapsulated 5 Rhythms as a form of prayer, a spiritual practice. I don't do it often enough for it to be that. Instead I accept it as a form of communion, connection and spiritual release. Retreat even. Retreat from whatever helpful or unhelpful noise is going on in my head, letting it be drowned out by the call to move my body, to sweat out the emotional toxins of the last few days or weeks.
Sweat. Oh yes! I am a 'sweaty Betty' and unashamed to come off the floor dripping. Sweat is simply energy converted into matter…and they say that salt water is the cure for all ills: sweat, tears or the sea. I'll take each of them as they come and vouch for the truth of that insight. Perhaps not a total cure, depending up what ails you, but healing in some degree, most definitely.
Words from round the closing circle touched my heart. Grateful and Gratitude came up time and again. Freer. Lighter. Content. Relaxed. Safe.
A told us that this was her second dance and that she nearly hadn't come, but was so glad that she had. She said she was still part terrified, part exhilarated. I remember that feeling from my own first forays and can testify that it vanishes quickly. T told us that she hasn't lived here long and is still trying to find "her people". I hope she found some of them in that room.
I have. I may never know all of their names and I may never see them outside of that space, but then again, who knows? Maybe I will. For now it is enough that I do see them in that space. I recognise them. I see their beauty and their joy. I see emotions being released, at least for the space of an evening.
It doesn't always happen immediately. I watched a person who, I felt, was in the process of healing, holding their space, nurturing their soul as they felt it needed. They were holding themselves to the edges of the floor, somewhat restrained in their dance. That in itself was beautiful, watching someone actually taking care of their own self, simply by virtue of being in the room, being open to the experience. In the second wave of staccato, I saw them release whatever it was / is / might be with such a broad smile, such an emanation of joy. I am surmising that word, but there is no other that would fit what I witnessed. Release. Relief. Abandonment. Joy.
And my soul smiles in response to that. My spirit soars.
I have no idea whether they were able to carry that precious moment out of the room and back into whatever their day-to-day reality is. I can only say that I did. I can only say that two hours of dancing in the 5 Rhythms brought me into the open field of my own heart and optimism and was the beginning of a week that was surprising in the degree of connection and connectedness it brought with it. Part of that I took from what I was doing out on the floor - which was connecting with the Chaos that is Water that is who I am. Part of it I took from sharing what others were doing when we connected in passing moments, sharing smiles and laughter at our common folly, moving in tandem or not. Part of it I took from bearing witness.
Show me a dance floor. Give me some music. And I will move and invite you to move with me - not to my rhythm, but to your own. One of my favourite books is called End The Struggle and Dance With Life - one good starting point for doing that is to simply dance.
Thanks again to Jay & Debbie for brining me to the Dance and to Mary Hedger for making it possible.
