Church of Dance

Some people go to church on Sunday mornings.
Some people go to dance on Sunday mornings.
I'm becoming part of that 2nd group of people, viewing my body as a temple and dance/movement as a form of worship.

In Seattle, there's an Ecstatic Dance group that meets every Sunday. I heard about it about 13 months ago. Today I finally checked it out. And it was divine.

I had been a little nervous about going. Would I like it? Would it be too "new agey" or too "hippy-ish?" Would people try to dance with me? For months I didn't go because I was concerned I might not feel right there, but finally I realized I wouldn't know until I tried. As my mom says, "worry is the misuse of imagination." And I am so grateful that I finally went to see for myself what it would be like.

I felt so, so very "right" there. I felt free and safe to let the music move me. I felt a strong sense of connection and community while also feeling completely comfortable dancing by myself on the perimeter of the room, getting deeply in touch with myself, letting go and allowing the music to move me. I also felt moved to tears on several occasions by the freedom of movement, the freedom of being, I experienced. I also got to release some pent up anger during one of the songs that evoked that sort of energy and emotion in me. It was beautiful.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. To Laura for planting the seed so many months ago. To the ecstatic dancers in Seattle for creating the lovely space and adding to my experience. And to myself, for going and for letting go, for the ability to move this body of mine that's been through so much, for all I do, and for all I am-- Maybe I should title this blog entry The Church of Me instead? Or maybe that's another blog entry waiting to be written.....