I began dancing when I was very tiny, it seemed the most natural thing to do. We had a very beautiful music box in our home, I remember dancing with my father to its tinkly sounds.
And then the small record player with half a dozen records that I could put on myself. It sat on the floor in our living room. I would play the music and dance around the armchairs.
My mother sent me to ballet school which I loved to a point, it gave me good posture and balance and an opportunity to dance more. In my exams they wrote, beautiful placement, a pretty expression and good feet!
Well that was sure to get me through life, even though I did not much like my feet, thinking they were far too big. Nowadays I am quite thankful for their size, I realise they are perfect for my hight and balance.
Dance continued even when riding horses took the place of ballet classes, I danced at the local youth club and continued to dance at home, in my bedroom. These days it was David Bowie and a variety of 1970’s rock anthems.
I have often asked why dance was so important to me. It was so inherent and absolutely essential for my wellbeing. There were times where I could move out of my unhappiness, even become out of my body as I escaped the pain that life could inflict. Dance made me feel really good and I was addicted to that feeling, I needed it to survive, to take me away from my melancholic state.
I began to realise that escaping wasn’t the answer, as I grew into adulthood. Escaping did not serve me, it simply aggravated the problems. I began to pay more attention to the need to move, to why the dance was so necessary. I trusted the dance, like nothing else. I knew I could always reach an element of joy. I would never be alone, the Spirit of dance reached deep within me and was always my friend.
Trusting it as I did, I knew I was safe enough to delve deeper. I began to pay more attention to my moving body, to be fascinated with its expression, its shape, its rhythm and vibrations, what happened with certain pieces of music and why some had different effects on me.
I fell in love with my own dance, to embrace all that it could be, wether dark and mysterious or light and playful. Energy moved and I followed. In time I became more aware of how my heart would engage in the dance, if I had feelings of despair, sadness or fear, even anger, I could move with it, embracing the pain and making friends with it. This gave the dance more energy and fuelled a different kind of expression.
My consciousness would change and I would be more awake than I could ever possibly feel at any other time. Sometimes even feeling quite lucid and ethereal.
My dreams would be heightened, my vision sharp and my knowing acute.
Anxiety would drop away, what had been unconscious would be made known, isolation would become unity, trauma would be transmuted.
I became fascinated with how this energy moved, how it expanded my dance and expressed parts of me I never knew existed.
I had become the ‘conscious dancer.’
I would write things down, poetry, prose and just meanderings of feelings and experiences. And then I discovered others, groups of people who were doing the same thing. I joined in and it was as if we all became one, one energy, one expression and I could disappear in a sea of dancers, feeling into the energy-field of all that was happening.
Fascination and curiosity continued, for each tiny movement of the tips of my fingers and each expansive one where my muscles stretched to their fullest. It took me to the deepest realms of my hearts understanding and took me to the world of God/Spirit and the universal energies we are all part of.
I wanted others to experience this, I wanted to share what I was understanding, I wanted to create a way that would support the hearts and minds of those around me and most of all, I wanted to be in service to what had saved my own life.
And so I did…
If you would like to know more and experience conscious dance, please visit https://middleearthmedicine.com/memevents/the-landscape-of-conscious-dance/