Dancing In the Light

Deep inside me resides the soul of a dancer. In another life I was poised, and moved with lightness, and my soul has hungered to dance, to have the exterior mirror the performance in my head.  I can count on both hands the number of times I have danced in public. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve enjoyed it, and I think I’ve always felt self-conscious about my body, my lack of rhythm and my uncoordinated movements.

But last night, I danced, and all I felt was love. Total love, and acceptance for myself, for my connection to my intuition, and for my connection to the divine. I dragged Freak with me to a group I had heard about that meets in a dance studio twice a month to move to world beat music in a safe, supportive, no drugs/alcohol/smoking environment. Just like my first yoga class, I felt like a part of my soul had come home. I felt an immediate connection with the 10 person group.

At first, I was simply amazed at the individuality and freedom of the other dancers, galloping like children, swaying like shakers, moving like beat poets, twirling like ballerinas. Then I felt like the room was hugging me with its energy, and I felt freed, inspired by the freedom that the rest of the group gave to their bodies. After two songs or so, I felt the call of my intuition, and for the first time, outside of the privacy of my office, I didn’t have to think about what my next move would be.

I felt both disconnected from my body, and yet, more in tune with it than ever before. I moved strands of energy like taffy, glittering like diamonds between my fingertips. I listened to my body, opening each charka up, spilling energy onto the floor. My arms seemed lighter than ever before. I felt wonderfully, beautifully alone. The omnipresent observer I fight against was gone, no judgments loomed in my head, no comparisons haunted me, and I filled my own need completely drawing from the energy of the room.

At times people rested, sitting, laying, rocking on the floor, accepting their body’s call to the moment. I was totally in the now, totally in love with myself. At the end when we sat in a circle around a single candle, and held hands, I felt like sobbing with my happiness, with the spirituality of the experience, with how wonderfully, completely, connected I felt.

It was only two hours, but seemed like I had known these people much longer, like I had been in this place before.  I’m definitely going back. In fact, I don’t think I can wait till next month to dance again.

Comments

[Ian smith]

Closing the Door didn't allow comments so I'm goign to be sneaky and still get my 2 cents in.

Memories are always more beautiful than experiences.

Emotional investments in unfounded opinion are necessary for child rearing, religion and politics; but are the death of relationships and education.

[wavybrains]

Memories are indeed tricky things . . .sometimes we re-write history to support those unfounded opinions, sometimes we allow their beauty to dim our present, and then sometimes we manage to let go . . .