If you ask me when I discovered my body could follow the rhythm of the drums, I will say I do not remember. I have always been dancing, from birthday celebrations to school dances. It transitioned from a simple pleasure to an escape for me. As I grew older, I realized that all I needed to do was allow my body to take charge. So, I danced and danced and danced till my ribs ached and perspiration ran down my body. I sought out places that enabled me to express myself in this way. What other manner might a lady convey her deepest fears and desires? Dance is where I discover myself; it is my home where I fall. It is the space where I feel compelled to become powerful. It is the connection that I have with my innermost self.

Dancing is difficult for me when my life is unraveling. I believe that the melancholy that is seeping through my hollow body does not need to taint my haven. This body that has supported me on all my life’s journeys. Why invade my peaceful space? How can I convey that it is the only way I feel comfortable expressing myself? How do I put it that the only place I can really become myself is by dancing? Where I can transform into who I really am. How do I feed this ravenous desire that is devouring me from the inside out?

You ask when I started dancing, and I say I do not know. Dancing has always been a part of me. Following the pulse and rhythm of the song is what moves me. Dance has always been my thing; I do not need to ponder before my body moves. My body has its own mind. It does not obey me after hearing the rhythm. It serves as a source of fuel for music. It is the one place where I can be authentic and simply exist. A place where expectations are not weighing on me.

I have not danced in days. I attempt to move my body, but it only falls back to the ground. I attempt to make a pattern, but my body has its own agenda. I attempt to push my body to follow the rhythm, but it is stubborn. It yearns for independence and self-expression. It yearns for me to become who I truly desire to be. After all, your state of mind is what you must control.

So, I sought sanctuary in my soul, which sealed me out. It tells me your body must move before I can move. You rush to your body, pleading with it to move, but it remains unmoving. Your body tells you to find yourself before it dances to your tune. It tells you to discover your deepest level of existence, yet you lack power. You run to yourself, and it tells you to discover your strength. The apprehension sets in: how do I locate this strength that appears to be ebbing away from me? You will then recall your sanctuary, dance, but you flee from it. Do you think that fleeing makes me a coward? I have not danced in days. I simply refuse to find the strength because I do not want to be trapped in a cycle of despair any longer. I just need to dance.









Photo by Zac Wolff on Unsplash