Finding my way back to dance

What it means for me (KC) to be a Human in Motion.

“Before a child speaks, it sings. Before they write, they paint. As soon as they stand, they dance. Art is the basis of human expression.” Phylicia Rashad

Before I could even stand, I knew I was a dancer. I was born that way - with an innate, unquenchable need to move my body. Dance, for me, is the language I have felt the most fluent in. But, as with all languages, when you don’t “use it” you “lose it”.

This is a story of how I’ve used dance, when I lost it, and what happened when I (re)discovered it all over again. I call it…my journey back to dance.

I started “officially” dancing at the age of 3. I’m sure I was dancing the moment I could stand on my own, but that’s when I was registered in my first formal dance class. From the moment my little tap dance feet hit the floor, I was hooked. Hopelessly and relentlessly obsessed with moving my body to music. I tried every style that I had the opportunity to. I learned dances of countries, of cultures; of decades and of eras. I danced to music made from all over the world and to music I made on my own.

I guess you can say that dance was my first love.

I danced as many hours of the week as I could in the studio and I started working the front desk as soon as I was old enough. I taught the younger classes as a student teacher and taught my own classes the moment the chance came. Of course I dreamed of becoming a “professional dancer” but knew all along that the chances of me “making it” were slim. As much as my love for the art/sport was deep, I definitely was never “the best” *(more on this in a sec). So, though my passion for dance was strong, as I got older and shifted into adult-hood - my practice shifted from an almost daily occurrence, to the occasional class or party where I could dust off my shoes, to an (almost) forgotten language.

*To clarify, like many artistic humans, I grew up in a narrative that very much reinforced the belief that although it’s great to have artistic/creative hobbies growing up, the chances of you actually earning reliable income in those professions is slim. Along with the perception that those pursuits also fell outside the “real job” category, dance was never something that I considered to be more than a hobby. Little did I know it was something that I needed in my life.

My last dance class was March 2020. When we lost the ability to dance in a dance studio, I felt like I lost dance completely…

As with most of us, life changed a lot over covid. I became a full-time entrepreneur just months before the shutdowns. The shifting stresses of living in the pandemic reality compounded along with the pressures of being a first year business owner were a lot to manage. Major life plans got thwarted causing disappointments and frustrations and the mounting weight of deteriorating physical, emotional, and mental health led to my eventual burnout.

Last Fall, when I felt ready to seek out some form of movement to welcome back into my life, I was introduced to 5Rhythms dance and attended my first dance class in October. Shortly after, I attended a 3 week series on guided-conscious dance facilitated by Ruth Levin from Embodied in Motion. In less than 10 hours of dance class time, my entire perspective of dance shifted. Not only was it quite profound (both physically and emotionally) to come back to movement after years of reduced rhythmic movement, it was also groundbreaking for me to be introduced to the idea of dance without direct instruction.

For those unfamiliar with these dance styles:

• 5Rhythyms - is a dynamic dance practice that, through its exploration, can unearth a freestyle movement vocabulary rooted in unexpected, fresh ways of moving - the experience being visceral and highly personal.

• Conscious dance - embraces the guidance of the body to lead and through this movement practice, learning to tune into it and respond to its desires, wishes, directions, helps to pursue a greater quality of life.

Growing up, my dance classes consisted mainly of direct instruction, in front of a mirror, being critiqued on how every movement compared to the rest of the girls in my classes. And, although this style of dance serves its purpose, I can recognize that, in hindsight, having only this perspective of what dance was contributed to some pretty sizable body dysmorphia struggles. I couldn’t walk by a mirror without my inner critique hammering off a brigade of “stand up straighter”, “you look bloated today”, or “why do you look so messy” commentary.

When it came to open movement, I rarely had the opportunity to “free-style” dance and even when one came, it brought along an almost paralyzing feeling of “what do I do”? The “free-style” I was familiar with was meant for talented breakdancers or inspiring improv dancers. Not once had I ever been shown how to tune in, listen to my body, and let it guide me in movement. Instead, I learned to dance by relying on an overly active choreography-centric mind, a strong mind-muscle connection, and a heart that just loved to move.

As you can imagine, going into a 3 hour long dance session where there was little to no instruction and a room full of strangers felt like a tall order (perhaps you’re even getting a bit anxious thinking about it now if you are anything like I was haha!). Yet, in the famous words of Glennon Doyle, we can do hard things. So, I grabbed a friend (shoutout to my bebee Chelsea who is always down to try something new with me), put on my dancing socks, and away we went.

Over the course of the next 3 hours, I was gently introduced to the 5Rhythms of dance. These being described as a map to everywhere we want to go, on all planes of consciousness – inner and outer, forward and back, physical, emotional and intellectual. (You can read more here). Getting an opportunity to move through each of these with intention, openness, and compassion for my body opened up a door to dance that I didn’t know existed. What once felt insurmountable, I now looked at with a curiosity to discover and play with it.

After that quick taster, I was eager to try more and signed up for a series of classes to dig deeper into this new freedom of movement. The next 3 weeks were an eye-opening journey of what it means to let your body lead, going through the emotions of allowing release to move through your body, and overcoming the fear of moving around and with strangers. Under the guidance of Ruth, within the safety of her dance space, and with the courage to keep going, I unearthed a long lost feeling that dance is part of my purpose.

Even now, writing that, it feels like a bold statement.

Dance is (part of) my purpose.

But it feels authentic and genuine to me. It feels right and it feels like it excites me in a way that nothing has in a looonnnggg time. And so, this realization and (re)discovering of purpose has led me on a really cool journey of self discovery through movement; of getting back to dance.