Life is movement and is a constant state of change. Therefore, finding ways to move your body – whether it’s dancing, Zumba, running, hiking, walking, yoga – you are finding ways to be alive.
One of my favorite ways to move my body is dance and each month I have an opportunity to join the SLC Full Moon Goddess dance held at The Red Lotus School of Movement. I don’t always accept the invitation, but this month I chose in. It felt like the perfect way to end my magnificent day of incredibly powerful clients and astounding messages that coursed through me at the November SoulWorks Psychic and Holistic Fair.
I walked in and saw only one familiar face – my dear friend Giuliana who is the hostess of these events now. I’ve known Giuliana for almost 10 years and she is a woman I adore and feel as though we have never parted, even if a year has rolled by between meetings. She hugged me, expressing joy that I had chosen into the event. We talked for a few moments and then I sauntered in and found myself a comfy, cushy chair to curl up in and relax. The power of the day’s events hit me and I felt tired, wondering if I would have the strength to dance.
A beautiful young woman positioned herself beside me on the floor and eventually introduced herself. As we talked, I marveled at her strength and felt my compassionate heart open to her as she explained her husband had unexpectedly died nearly a year ago and she had chosen in to the dance because it was their wedding anniversary and she needed a way to support herself. She had chosen to dance, to be fully alive, as a way to move through her grief.
I was stunned as we talked, feeling her strength and her sorrow. It was an intense experience after an already intense day and one that I am so grateful for. She and I partnered up for the meditation of release prior to the dance and I had the honor of supporting her as we released the energy of what was holding her down and then she offered me the same. It was a truly blessed experience.
Then, the music started.
I yearned to burst forth in dance, but the music wasn’t my style… it was discordant in nature, not having a natural rhythm that inspires dance within me. I longed for drums, for an earthy African beat. Instead, the music was indy in nature and seemingly without smooth, dancing rhythm. It was designed to evoke gratitude, love, and grace, but I just wasn’t feeling it.
I looked around the room, as I slowly moved toward the center of the room, leaving my spot in the circle but feeling no call to dance. I tapped my toes, hoping to wake them up. I rolled my head and my shoulders. Still nothing. Then I noticed that the only other women who had moved from their spots were my meditation partner and Giuliana. The rest were all standing nearly still, just swaying and mostly looking uncertain.
Then, someone turned off all the lights but a distant entrance light and a candle, throwing the dance floor into nearly complete darkness. There was just enough light to see forms of bodies moving around the space, but not enough to get a distinct impression of who it was. And, suddenly, the room burst into movement all about me.
I swayed in the center of the circle of the pandemonium, still not feeling it within me to dance, still not hearing the call in the music that played, song after song falling flat upon my ears. I moved my body slowly, dispassionately, and felt the longing building to a panic within me.
Why can’t I find the dance? Everyone else here seems to be okay with it. The music is working for them.
I moved slowly, unable to find the beat, unable to feel the drawing power of the music. I watched the women around me and noticed that none of them were in sync with one another; they were all dancing to their own rhythm, in their own way, just as I was. Some of the music had significant “exclamation points” in the songs and the woman would stomp their feet in time with that mark. I didn’t feel it. I smiled when they did it, but it wasn’t pulling me to join in.
I had gone to that Goddess dance event with the sole (soul) intent of dancing until I couldn’t breathe, dancing until I had sweat dripping from every pore, dancing until I knew I could dance no more. But that just wasn’t happening. So I checked in… Am I blocking my dance? Am I behaving like a spoiled brat because I don’t like the music? What is the deal?
Then I realized that the “dancing” I was doing was appropriate for that night and I was dancing in the dark the same way I had danced in the light. I had started moving immediately, even before the music began and before the meditation ended because my body was longing to dance to be alive. For me, I was there to be alive and to connect with the Goddess energy and, that night, that looked like gentle swaying, occasional bows and bends, and supporting a Soul Sister as she moved through her grief.
What I have since come to understand is the gentle movement was perfect for me – just as the heart throbbing, body moving, thump of African drums would have also been perfect. I moved how I felt I needed to move in the space I had been given. And, even though I felt uncertain about the music and what it was drawing forth from me, I had no fear about moving – in the light or in the darkness.
When you are facing uncertainty, do you embrace it and move through it? Or do you stand still? When life calls you out to “dance,” do you dance?
I always welcome your thoughts, questions, and comments.
Feel free to jot down what you’re thinking in the comment box below.