I Just Wanna Dance

“I just wanna dance!” is a cheeky phrase my husband adoringly teases me with from a shared college-age era. I was notorious for closing down bars at 2:00am and calling out, “Just one more!” as the lights flashed on to illuminate sticky floors and half-empty glasses scattered amongst dingy tables, erasing their once mysterious and sexy air with the harsh light of reality. I’ve never understood how some people can sit still when they hear a song with a good beat. To resist tapping my toe or moving my hips is to deny my true essence- my natural instincts.

Since I could walk, I danced. Since I could read, I played instruments. I knew music had an intangible power over me when I would bawl with overwhelm and my heart exploded out of my chest anytime I watched a talented singer belt out their dreams on American Idol. I get goosebumps and close my eyes any time I’m near live music. I’ve always known that something about music is bigger than me- the magic of it; the mysterious power. But I’ve always felt it IS me. We are made of the same magic. The vibrations that pulse through a beating drum and sing sweetly through a wooden flute are the same vibrations that pulse within me.

Growing up I always thought I would be a doctor, a musician, or an artist. As I explored a wide variety of interests in these arenas, I would adapt myself to my community. Like most people in their formative teenage years, I was very impressionable. I was also a perfectionist because I wanted to do everything well. This quality served me in my determination, work-ethic, and willpower to succeed. Combine that with my Leo tendencies towards heart-led leadership, and I was “impressive”…or so I prided myself on as an identity I wore for the outside world. Also like most over-achievers, I tended to put too much on my plate with intentions that were always good, but also unrealistic. I never learned to protect myself from burnout.

Unfortunately, burnout is more common than not in our modern world. We’re bombarded with constant media messaging, promising that if we just do more, push harder, work more, then we can “live our best life.” We can have it all if we really want it. But to an impressionable, perfectionist teenager who wore her heart on her sleeve and tried to be everything to everyone, this harmful mindset resulted in losing my sense of self. The result? Bulimia.

I’m not here to go into all the soul lessons around an eating disorder (that’s another blog…or book!), but I am here to share what soul wounds have to do with dancing…

The Solar Plexus houses our self-identity as we relate to the outside world. It is where we hold our self-esteem, self-awareness, and all the other “self’s.” It is also where our inner flame resides. Our inner flame is our life force. Our life force propels us forward and lights us up with passion and inspiration. We utilize our life force through willpower and determination and “doing.”

In my experience, bulimia is primarily a dis-ease of the solar plexus (the sacrum would be a close second). Bulimia is also a dis-ease of boundaries. When caught in its web, we cling so strongly to strings that attach us to “no,”  

and restriction

and deprivation,

that eventually the strings can’t maintain the constant tension and snap. Bulimia involves an attempt to control through extremes of “yes” and “no”. These extremes are unsustainable and result in burnout. Literally, our life force energy becomes smoldered flames. And where do smoldering flames go? Along with ash and smoke, they return back to the Earth.

Little did I know at the time, but just dancing was my soul’s way of calling me back to myself. Back to the Earth from where I came. When we dance, we ground ourselves in Earth energy. We open a portal through our root that connects us to the gentle yet strong pulse of Mother Earth energy. She is powerful and magical. She is an internal drum that reminds us that we are made of the same stuff. Her comforting music is there to comfort us, console us, and inspire us.

The little girl in me who used to make up dances (picture cassette tapes, a boombox, and hammer pants- boom baby!) behind my closed bedroom door for the simple joy of it, knew the necessity of connecting to Earth energy through dance. And the college girl who was searching for herself in the midst of an eating disorder and all the other confusing lessons of growing up also knew that dancing was what her soul required to ignite her inner flame once more. At the time my conscious motivation was pleased with the attention from masculine energy as I swayed my hips and slender legs with high heels and red lipstick. Although I did it for myself, a part of me liked the attention from outsiders and felt validated by it. But that’s ok. That searching girl was naïve, but wise in her own right.

“You cannot solve a problem with the same mind that created it and cannot attract a different experience without changing your energy first.” -Rebecca Campbell, “Work Your Light” oracle

When the road of life takes sharp turns and uphill climbs that leave us feeling lost, dancing helps us resonate with the vibrations that guide us home. There was a time in history when dancing was as essential and normal to existing as breathing. I refer to myself as a Rememberer of those ancestral times. It wasn’t obvious to me during my “dark night of the soul,” but in retrospect I see how dancing reminds us of the beauty that is possible from grief if you allow yourself to immerse in its murky waters and integrate the flow of opposition into your life.

If you feel a longing in your soul to Remember your true essence. Your instincts. Your powerful magic…

JUST DANCE! And So It Is.