Let me set the scene. You walk into a dance studio for a class you stumbled across online. You’ve been browsing creative events in hopes to find a space to embrace all that you are and be surrounded by like-minded people searching for the same thing. You enter the room and see people stretching on the floor, some chatting in twos or threes. A person is already dancing in the corner. You remind yourself: It’s okay for me to be here. And so you sit on the floor, draw attention to your breath and body, and begin to stretch and warm up for the class just like the others, blocking any discomfort of anyone watching you.

This was my first impression of one of the two workshops I attended in London. It started slowly. Everyone was scattered around the room, feet planted firmly into the ground. Eyes open or closed, we were asked to start feeling into the rhythm of balance in our feet, swaying like a seaweed underwater. Feeling the gentle undulations of our body as it sought to return to equilibrium. The movement then expanded to our knees, our hips, our chest, elbows, wrists and neck until our whole body was possessed by a wave resembling the fluidity of water, that of which we are most composed of. We were then given the freedom to interact with our space, moving our bodies across the room, tracing the environment while tuning into the vibrations and beats of the music. With all of my body set alight and alive, I simply forgot the watcher. The watcher in me and others who may have been prone to scrutinise. To judge. To turn up her nose at me taking up space, shamelessly.

We moved through fog, through sticky honey and expressed a spectrum of human emotions, each given a stage to feel into fully. Anger, joy, sadness; everything was welcome in this evening pocket of freedom. We explored trust and letting go. Oh, the slight fear I felt when I had to be led blind around the room holding a stranger’s hand. With so many blind mice and fear of obstacles along the way, I had to surrender to the one leading me in darkness, having confidence that I will not be hurt. Dancing with the one that told me, “Let me lead you!” highlighting again my hesitance to let go, an opportunity for growth. In the second workshop I was told, “You know how to lead,” showing me exactly where my limits lie, and that is to allow myself to surrender. Let go of control. Allow someone to guide and lead me. Which translates to other areas of life. I need to allow others to love me.

During the second workshop, I felt more in tune with myself. I felt joy. The facilitator held space for all of us to feel into what moved us. To connect to our mind and body. To feel the music under our skin and express ourselves with an open heart. So, if you were ever thinking of attending a dance workshop like this, know it can truly be a healing, joyful and transformative experience.

Paulina