Dancing into the Unknown

One foot in front of the other.

I am walking down the farthest extension of a pier by the edge of lake Ontario. On one side, waves are giving the concrete blocks holding up the pier a gentle slap. On the other, a long ugly metal fence blocks off the winding line of boats, docked and winterized.

I keep walking.

As far as I can remember I found a certain peace and clarity in motion. As if when my body is fully pre-occupied by a rhythmic repetitive task I am able to access parts of myself often drowned-out by thought.

Movement can be very meditative, however not all movement always is.

So often we find ourselves running from place to place, from task to task without any purpose, without a feeling of release. This tiring-movement, aimless pacing, action without a purpose, is one that is not connected to our sense of embodiment. We often speak of mind-less chatter but we forget of the movement without a body. 

I feel my thigh and calf muscles begin to get sore from all the walking. It reminds of the 12+ hours days I used to pull working at restaurants. Coming home, taking off my shoes and collapsing. Feeling my body totally used up: chewed up and spit out. 

I know I got off easy, watching any manual labour of construction, delivery services or agriculture I know my body has paid a small price. But this only the tip of the ice-berg. Today’s culture reaps havoc on our bodies in so many different ways, making us impartial and passive participants in this destruction.

Hunched over our smart phones, driving to and from units of food distribution. Laboured by a walk up the stairs, unhealthy, unfit.

Our own bodies as foreign to us as the the dark side of the moon.

Out of touch, out of reach, in the dark.

How did we get to this level of alienation? 

How did we become strangers to our own bodies?

I leave that question with you while I try to look ahead.

As important as it is to understand the past, to unravel the systems of oppression, to become familiar with the cards you were dealt, solving this problem this can never be done with thought alone. 

We really can’t un-think a destructive relationship with our body. Instead we must to learn to nourish it through action, to feed it with embodied practices that give it space to heal.

As I continue walking down the pier, I turn up the music playing in my headphones. I hit on what I call the “infinite loop,” a rhythmic and harmonic pattern that can be repeated indefinitely without losing its raw energizing power. I begin to align my steps with the beat of the music, allowing my body to outline the pulse of the song. The rhythm enters my body like a strong wind, giving it lightness and purpose in every step. 

I begin to dance.

I can’t remember the first time I felt the healing powers of dance. Moving awkwardly through middle and high school dances, I always felt out of place. Lanky, tall, uncoordinated. Bursts of free style here and there felt good, but were quickly bottled up at the first gaze of an on-looker. 

No, they must not see me enjoy myself in movement. That would be so embarrassing!

Moving into young adulthood, with the discovery of alcohol I began to explore new levels of comfort, forgetting about the on-looker and beginning to let it loose. But again this only went so far, tired and out of breath, hung-over and exhausted, drinking yourself to dance is not really a sustainable practice. 

The same rang true of the mind-altering substances that were introduced in the coming years. All-night raves, bars and clubs opened a very wide space for movement. Great danceable music for hours and hours and even a dance floor, a space designated for movement!

And yet, something was missing. I happen to rant about this in another piece here.

So many of the bars, clubs and music venues focus on what they see as the most important thing: the spectacle. The best DJ, the best band, the hottest new track. The main purpose of these spaces is to entertain, to give people show! Setting up a stage, a physical and metaphorical elevation in which highly specialized talent is showcased on a pedestal for the eyes of the common public observing in awe from down bellow.

In creating a spectacle we manufacture a seemingly natural separation between the Performer and the Audience. Over the last three thousands years this type of event structure has been incredibly popular and has lead to the creation of the highly specialized “artist” class. People who spent their entire lives perfecting the art of performance be it through music, dance, theatre and more.

But we have to remember that this is but one type of organizational structure, originating in the western theatrical tradition of ancient Greece. A beautiful and rich tradition which has given the world incredible fruits of artistic labour, of highly trained artist achieving incredible mastery at their craft, capable of moving thousands of people with their work. Most of the time when we say art, we think of these types of artists. These are the Mozarts and the Beyonces of this world.

However, it is important to keep in mind that this is not the only way that humans beings have gathered together in creation. For thousands and thousands of years, and long before the first Greek theatre, humans have gathered humbly around a fire wielding drums made of animals skin and their own human voices: chanting, drumming and dancing through all the ebbs and turns of a tribe’s life. Dancing in celebration, in anticipation, in mourning and in prayer. This was the way that we achieved a sense of belonging with the world, with one another and with our own bodies. Feeling the raw natural power of movement, showing our strength and our courage, our passion and our tenderness in every step, in every gesture.

The song on my iphone finally comes to an end. Feeling the sudden transition out of my “infinite loop” I regain my usual pace and quickly glance around to check if anyone saw me dancing. 

No one did. Phew.

The shame around our bodies and their movement sinks deep into our flesh and it cannot be wished away, reasoned with or given a logical solution.

The only way is to dance through this feeling itself. To move through it.

This is where practice of ecstatic dance comes into play. 

A practice that allows you to move through thoughts, feelings and understandings of yourself, of your body, of how it interacts with and around others.

What is ecstatic dance? And how does it work?

Ecstatic dance is a free movement practice. It is structured as a wave in its format. Inviting people into a space, it gives the first 30 minutes for arrival and socializing, however this socializing isn’t obligatory as there is an understanding that this is a meditative space and people will often give you time to collect and ground yourself, even if it means that you don’t speak to anyone before or after the practice. 

That is O.K! I find this in itself to be a powerful piece of culture. Allowing people to gather in numbers with out the stereotypical expectations of “socialization” is super valuable. Giving space to people who struggle with social anxiety or endure endless hours in the service industry developing a numbness and an aversion to small-talk and endless social introductions. These people need a space to breathe, a space to release energy. Ecstatic dance becomes that space for them. 

There is a brief opening circle that introduces the host for the night and the DJ/musicians guiding the journey. The space is set up in a way that places focus on the people gathered together rather than the DJ or the “spectacle.” There is often a beautiful alter in middle echoing the warm flames of a fire humans have gathered around for so many thousands of years. 

The journey begins lying down flat on the floor with ambient non-rhythmic music immersing you in a deep sound mediation. Gradually over time the music increases in intensity, speed and dynamics. As rhythm begins to dominate the soundscape, you might feel drawn to explore more elevated movement, coming to your feet and beginning to explore the room. But again, this shift is not demanded or expected and has no “right time”. If you wish to stay on the ground and explore there the entire time you are more than welcome to do so. There are no expected “dance moves” or styles for any portion of the journey. You will often find people swaying and moving through what may appear as “interpretive dance.” I realized this is so common because it is the easiest and most accessible way of exploring movement and really has little to do with any modern “dancing style.” When we imagine our ancestors we easily imagine them imitating their surroundings, mimicking the movements of animals, trees or natural forces like the wind or the rain. This types of dance comes naturally to us. But this doesn’t mean you can’t break into break-dance or flow through a ballet pirouette landing into a nice deep Slavic-squat. Freedom is all inclusive and you quickly realize that the playing field is so vast you can spend your entire lifetime exploring this practice. 

Your interaction with others in the space is a continuous conversation.

It is gaged through non-verbal communication, through eye-contact, through playfulness and experimentation and is always grounded in deep respect for every person in the room. As the journey continues it is common to see people transition into a form of contact improv, dancing in pairs, in small groups or creating little whirlpools of movement and improvisation. This is where the beauty of group dynamics comes to shine. Together we begin to shape the reality we wish to experience. This type of group creation is deeply inspiring and allows to transcend beyond the “spectacle” of entertainment to an embodied sense of communion with yourself and with the world. The ecstasy that is developed by your body through this process is all natural. No alcohol or synthetic stimulant is necessary to achieve this release. Just remember to bring a water bottle.

As the journey begins to wind down you will find the music decrease in intensity and speed, opening space for some soulful reflection. This is one of my favourite parts of the night. With bodies happily tired from play, from inspired-movement, a new feeling emerges in the body, a warm hug from within. You might find yourself moved to tears, you might be smiling or you might find yourself lying back down on the floor and settling into a sweet and restful meditation.

Like a child returning from a long day of playing outside, you feel giddy and filled with joy. You have a body! You can move it in a billion different ways. Others see you in movement and accept you. They move too. 

It’s as simple as that. 

The music returns to a full ambient non-rhythmic mediation. You ride it out to a complete silence which now feels full and rich with meaning. 

You breathe.

The guide for the evening welcomes people into a smaller intimate circle around the glistening altar. They invite you to move through vocalization as a group, moving through the vowels O E I A U. You sing together and feel the power of so many different voices ringing out in beautiful organic harmony. 

The circle is closed and you are ready to go and get to sleep all before 11PM on a Thursday. You’ve had your fix, your release for the day and may be even for the week. 

However you will be back again next week, as it is a weekly practice. It isn’t saved for special occasions or for just before Christmas. This too is an important piece of culture. Allowing for people to build habits around healthy embodied movement. Habits that can be sustained for a lifetime. When I discovered ecstatic dance I understood I have yet another beautiful practice to add to my toolset, a space to heal, space to grow and to better understand myself over a long period of time. I understood that this is something I could do well into my 70s. It isn’t something “I used to do when I was younger.” But rather something I will make time for through-out my life. There are people of all ages that participate in this practice. This is another important factor. Having healthy relationship between people of all ages is super rare is something I really cherish about this community.

This isn’t a fad or a trend. This isn’t hype.

This is the healing power of a free moving practice.