Day 662: Pure Physical Joy

Thank you, Christian de Sousa. Yesterday, I went to Sweaty Thursdays in Vauxhall. It's the first place I danced, not counting Esalen in 2001/2002, where I wasn't that keen on formal 5 Rhythms because I found it a bit bloody earnest and badly led, though 'Sweat Your Prayers' was better... And then Emily Wilkinson encouraged me to come and dance with her and her good friend Karen Smithson, and off we went one time a year or three ago and bugger me, it was fantastic. That kicked me off to going more regularly, to Vauxhall and when I was in Brighton to Love Thy Everyone at St Nicholas Church on Dyke Road (also a killer class!). 

Now I dance more often than not with fabulous Sue Rickards in Tufnell Park. Sue is a joyful, committed, skilful teacher with the deepest of souls and such straightforward simplicity, such authentic aaaahhhhh... So many times, she's moved me and delighted me. How lucky I am that the nearest class to where I've been living is so, so, so, so good.

I've danced just once with the brilliant Cathy Ryan who does a Monday class, but she made a huge impression. She has skill and simplicity like Sue and a lightness too, an elfin mystery to her and pure, clear presence.  I love both these teachers very much. Jane Belshaw too... oh god, and her penchant for slipping in a little bit of classical glory to uplift and transport. 

St Peter's, where we dance

And Christian de Sousa, my original and gifted reawakener, thank you. You were ON FIRE last night. Christian walks peacefully and vibrantly through what he does. There's energy and dynamism, but no franticness in him. He holds. In my eyes, he's unassuming and unshakeable. Last night was my favourite yet, and I've been to some mind-blowing classes by all these wonderful people. It was packed. Some people yearn for more room but I love the mindfulness demanded of a very full class, and the energy. So many bodies, so many flows, so much energy. 

I can't even speak to you about the music. It was perfect. Helped by a few choice words, encouragement and presence, the dance came through me, but was not 'done by me'. It just happened. My usual frets about looking good/not like a blood sausage in a dress arose, but dissipated more and more quickly as the movement made its mark. 

I was in bliss, in joy, in movement. Every dance alone was rich and connected and every dance with others was... perfect. Perfect in all its imperfections. Some were all eyeballs and weaving and mimicking; some were gentle, supportive, little or no eye contact; some were pumping with the joy of being alive and one, which involved someone I had just danced with (usually a thing I don't love) became a three and the three of us, never having spoken, raved like it was the 1980s, shook and flung and celebrated. I danced with every little part of me. My body took me over and the music ran me. Truly ecstatic. Truly blessed.

I almost couldn't any more, but my god, it all kept going and there I stood (not still) in pure physical joy, in exactly the right place, bursting with gratitude that this is something I can do and that people are so skilful and generous that they can create it; thankful for every single breather in the room that we get to breathe and be together. In thanks too for making it. Humbled. As the session closed, we were guided to completion, stillness, thanks. I smiled all the way home, lit up, and did a whole load of energy releasing in my bed. I slept and slept and slept. And now I ache, thankful for the reminder of that dance.

My body hurts in every muscle and my soul is flying. In gratitude, in humbleness, in love. x