Dance Me Free

How Kizomba Got Me In Touch With My Third Eye Chakra, My Intuition

“You just know,” I’ve heard people say. Whether they were referring to choosing a romantic partner, a career, a spontaneous decision to move to a different country, or even just making the next dance move, they seemed to be tapped into some kind of super power that I didn’t have. Because I didn’t just know.

I always felt doubtful of my decisions and feelings. Even once I made them, I’d think, Did I really feel that? or What if I was wrong? I couldn’t even enjoy the process of making a decision because I was so hesitant thinking and rethinking it.

The thing is this wasn’t a thinking thing. It was a body thing and required being present. I had no idea how disconnected from my body, feelings and the present I was.

How could I be out of tune with my feelings? I was sensitive. I cried, probably too much in many people’s opinions. I “felt” compassion and empathy and fear and joy, especially for others.

What I didn’t realize was that I was concentrating so much on making sure others felt safe and comfortable, being aware of their feelings, that I was often ignoring my own body’s call to what I needed.

Being so outwardly focused, I had trained my body to feel into the external world for answers and forget my inner signals. Signals that told me something was off, or that I was not around the right person, place, or choice for me. But I also ignored signs that told me I was exactly where I should be and to go for it! Instead, I’d question my gut and go with what others thought was best for me. My body must have been so frustrated with me as I just wasn’t listening to it.

Small signs- like an uneasiness in my stomach, or a stuck feeling in my throat, or a sinking feeling in my heart- I would push aside and think was something I ate, or my lack of confidence, or my overly worried nature. People would constantly be telling me that I worried too much, and I believed them, instead of believing into my body’s signals.

This was especially pronounced when I was dancing. I would overthink what I was sensing, and second guess myself. I’d assume the person in front of me knew better because I didn’t have a sports or athletic background. All this movement-based activity and the idea of muscle memory was new to me. I didn’t trust in it or myself, so my dancing felt awkward and hesitant.

Copying what my dance partner was doing was a tactic I often employed. But watching him and his feet wasn’t getting me in touch with myself. A lead once even told me he could feel me thinking while we were dancing. Ugh! It was not what I wanted to hear after I felt like I was trying so hard.

By the end of a salsa, bachata, or tango social, I just thought this wasn’t for me. That I just couldn’t tap into whatever other people were tuned into that allowed them to look like they were reading each other’s mind. I didn’t know that I was focusing so much on the mind instead of understanding I needed to first read my own body. That is until I met Kizomba.

Kizomba required me to just feel because there weren’t many other options. This dance doesn’t have a set foot that you have to be on at particular counts. I couldn’t use that as a default to get back to where I thought I should be. But more than that, just like in Tango, even if I wanted to cheat and look at my partner’s feet, I couldn’t in this dance. We were too close. We would literally be butting heads if I tried looking down. There was no use looking with my eyes. I would only see my partner’s chest or whatever was over their shoulder. I had to see in another way.

Instead of looking outwardly with my eyes, I closed them. I had done this occasionally in other close partner dances, but I felt more called to in Kizomba. There was no line of dance that we had to travel around the room in or be cautious of like in Tango, and we weren’t covering much ground or needing a lot of space like in Salsa or Zouk. In fact, very little traveling or distance is covered on the outside when dancing Kizomba. But, oh, how much could be moved on the inside! There were these little nuances that spectators couldn’t see but could take the partners dancing on an elaborate inner journey.  

At first, I was only getting glimpses into this exquisite feeling. But even those tiny tastes of it- which felt like a little secret between me, my partner, the music and the floor- made me want more. It was like I could access it but not consistently.

What I didn’t realize was that I was very disconnected from an important energy center in my body: the Third Eye Chakra, which governs this felt sense. Located in the middle of the forehead, between and behind the eyes, this center is referred to as Ajna in Sanskrit, which literally translates to the Command Center, as it allows us to see with our inner vision, our deeper inner knowing.

I had spent so much time running away from this center because of fear or conditioning. There were experiences and people in my life that had trained me to not trust being in my body. Mindsets around me that valued practicality more than intuition, that made sensitivity seem like a weakness, while using the head was made out to be more reliable.

But the more I danced Kizomba, the more this intuition was being reawakened. And coming into my body didn’t feel unsafe but inviting and energizing. It was like my body had been longing for this for most of my life, and Kizomba was teaching me how to call it back in. Getting in touch with this part of me through this beautiful dance felt protective and expansive, not scary or risky. It allowed me to feel when something was not right, but also feel more into joy and play and creativity.  

Tiny hip undulations, flirty little twists in the chest, rhythmic pulses in the torso, and micro shoulder shimmies got me acquainted with parts of me that I didn’t even know I was neglecting. Even just breathing with my partner in one spot, and feeling each part of my foot push incrementally into the floor, made me feel more present and alive. The more I would listen for these subtleties through Kizomba, the more pronounced they were becoming. I was no longer thinking them, but sensing them, and not second guessing them, but flowing with them.

What really fascinated me was that there were many leads in Salsa, Bachata and Tango in the past who I thought weren’t doing enough in their leading, even though they were known as high level dancers. Their lead felt unclear as I could barely feel it. I had almost convinced myself that they were being lazy with their leading because they thought they were better than everyone else, so they didn’t want to waste their energy.

It wasn’t until I started feeling more into the tiny nuances in Kizomba for myself, in my own body, that I could really appreciate these lighter leads and the finesse with which they were dancing. There was no pushing or pulling needed, no force, because they were so connected with their body wisdom. I just needed to catch up. And once I did, the slight flick of the wrist or soft shift in the angle of a light lead’s torso didn’t intimidate me or turn me off. Instead, I could see and feel into the art of doing less to create more- more feeling, more freedom, more fluidity. I grew to understand that their lightening up their lead was not an insult to me, but incentive for me to hone in on my own senses.

At first, I had to close my outer eyes to get in touch with my inner eyes. Not only could I feel the difference in me, but I also started getting more compliments about my dancing from others. The more I was trusting of myself, the more others felt it too. My dances became more seamless and fluid, not just in Kizomba, but in other dance styles as well. The leads I was dancing with felt me trusting the flow more. They could feed off of that as well, and I couldn’t wait for more dances with them.

Following this felt sense in dance made it so I was able to use it in other areas of my life as well. From deciding who to spend time with, or which practitioners would be best for any health issues I was going through, to even detecting there was toxicity in my environment that couldn’t be seen but my inner knowing warned me about. I began trusting my own intuition more and standing up for what felt right for me. And my sight, how I perceived things- whether with my eyes opened or closed- became clearer.

I realized I have a right to see things my own way, even if others don’t share my same vision. And how beautiful it is that I am able to express this unique vision through writing, dancing and other mediums because of the confidence and trust that tapping into my intuition has given me.