I recently went to a Tai Chi center where a group of about fifteen or more people gather every so often to dance in a beautiful, spacious, warmly lit room with hardwood floors, Zen decor, cushions, and Christmas lights. One easily becomes absorbed in the enchanting music, a mix of songs with tribal rhythms, exotic instruments, and hauntingly blissful melodies. I wore a mesh top a shade of red that somehow reminded me of India. People danced their deepest emotions and creative wills, freely expressing themselves with movements that ranged from belly dancing to what I can only call, at this point, performance art.
As the night unfolded, the dancing seemed to parallel the myriad of thoughts and emotions swirling around inside me. I never quite knew where things were going, but if I was receptive and open, unattached to any particular sequence of movements, I was swept into dances filled with joy and human warmth.
In the Circle
In the early part of the evening, I brought my son to dance with me. We twirled and ran in circles, laughing all the while. I was overjoyed to spend that time with him, looking into his big brown eyes as I spun him around. Eventually, however, my son slowly entered his “tired and wired” state. I knew I needed to take him home soon.
At one point, I was sitting on the floor fending off the playful attacks of my five year old when I suddenly noticed that everyone around me was dancing together in beautiful, elegant dances. I recalled that most of the people there were members of the same dance classes and went on dance retreats together. And I was sitting on the floor wrestling with my child, most unelegantly. No matter how much logic you bring into it, there’s still a tendency to feel a pang when it looks as though you don’t belong.
While driving Erik back to his dad’s house, I was thinking about how crazy it was for me to feel left out. On the other hand, through my research on emotion as a graduate student, I’m well acquainted with the fact that simply appearing left out evokes actual physical pain. Social exclusion is excruciating on a most primitive, gut level. Nevertheless, I was determined to snap out of it and reintegrate myself.
Returning to the center, I vowed to enjoy myself, even if I was relegated to dancing alone in a corner. No, I thought, maybe I’ll even ask someone to teach me how to dance like that! Funny how hard it is to open a door when you feel like you’re not part of a group, not part of the “inner circle.” But I was determined to get past my irrational fears.
It wasn’t hard at all! The big irony! When I walked in, everyone was sitting in a circle, which I joined, and when the music began, everyone held hands, maintaining the circle, and danced all around in all sorts of crazy contortions without ever letting go! Like an undulating, drunken game of Twister. I was laughing myself silly! I was most physically, most tangibly, and quite jovially a part of the group.
During the last song, everyone began dancing with each other, alternating partners. I danced with many different people, holding hands and twirling around in some semblance of semi-elegance with so much joy and warmth in my heart, I couldn’t stop smiling.
The night ended with a group hug. All together, the experience rendered me inarticulate for hours.
Way of the Heart
Though quite familiar with the despair that arises when things go badly, I forgot all about the trepidation that can arise when things go really well. Life is good, and wonderful things happen, and quickly on its heels is a fear of loss, as if good things cannot possibly remain so. And so the heart wants to plan, to know what is coming next or what is around the corner.
But the way of the heart is more like a freeflowing dance than a stiff march. If you worry too much about the next step or where you stand, dancing becomes difficult. Maybe that makes marching easier, but I’ve had enough marching. I’m ready to dance!
There are some things for which the wanting is the receiving. It’s the dance we love so much, and you can’t possess that or bottle it up for later. There is only one option. Let go and dance with all your heart. Dance with love! Dance with appreciation for the changing melody, tenderness for the open space, and trust in the rhythm. You don’t worry about how long a song will last, because you know that when one song is over, a new one will begin, everything perfectly timed. You may not know what will happen next, but you can dance for as long as your heart desires.
