I’m uncomfortable. I often am. I’m feeling myself awkwardly, feeling my body and feeling the crowd. I want them to disappear but I need their energy. I close my eyes. I open them. I close them. I look weird. Who cares about weird anyways? I do, but I don’t. I close my eyes.
A familiar song starts to play. The dance floor is a cacophony of chaos and I’m searching for that moment where I know something. Where I recognise a song. Its here. I let out a small shout - the music drowns it out. I look animated. I look alive. A guy catches my eye. Why are my eyes open again? I close them, they flutter shut.
And then I sing. There’s nothing like singing and dancing at the same time. I love new music but I love music that I know even more. I feel soft and subtle as I get lost in what I remember.
I move my body. Here, there, I touch my hips. I feel good. I peek at the crowd. Shit. I close my eyes. If I keep them closed I’ll stay in the moment for longer. I close them again.
And then I’m in. So hard, so deep. Maybe I had a few drinks, or maybe I’m sober. It’s never mattered when I’ve fallen in love. With the dance floor that is. I missed it. I needed it. I’m here. I know the next song and the next one. And the next one. FUCKING HELL I’M ALIVE. I never want to leave.
The friends I came with want to go. We’re just getting started. This is why I go alone. For the best experience, always dance alone.
It’s not the beat that I feel, it’s the song, the hope, the fly-high-feeling music brings. I scream but I’m probably not that loud. I dance. My body moves. My hands move. My eyes are closed.
The DJ changes the set. He plays a few songs I haven’t heard of. Familiar music comes with chance, with luck. The way life works. When it rains, it pours. When the drought comes, it’s okay. I grab a drink - alcoholic or not, it doesn’t matter. The feeling I’m looking for isn’t affected by what I drink.
There the music again. I hear it, I know this one. The people I’m with are off to the side. Why am I noticing them? I should get back on the dance floor. Close my eyes. So I do. ALL I WANT TO DO IS DANCE. I WANT TO DANCE. I want to feel that connection with the air, that connection with the moment. When I dance, I forget. Is that what I’m looking for? To forget?
I breathe. It feels good. I tease someone with a smile. I love being close with people dancing. It’s like sex. Safe sex. Platonic sex. But sex on the dance floor nonetheless.
Does anyone else feel it? 20 songs in, I’m not uncomfortable anymore. My eyes won’t open. I’m dancing. The floor is my sanctuary. The disco lights are my sun. It doesn’t matter if I know the song. My body is moving; everything makes sense. I don’t remember why I came here. I want to forget why I ever need to leave.
“Raving as religious experience.”
Loved this Yehudis. Your writing voice and intimate friend to friend style of storytelling always blow me away
Hope you have a lovely start to your new year (:
Giving oneself completely to any experience or endeavor seems to be a recipe for ecstasy Yehudis. Dance is an accessible doorway to experience that. Does dance help you access that "all in" state in other parts of life, or do you already have that in your heart and you just apply it to dance?