If someone asked me what I love about dance the most, I could list off quite a few ideas. But one in particular, I never knew quite how to describe: those moments of pauses, breaths, and silences in our bodies, and the music, when we are moved even if not actually physically, but from the inside out.
That space when our feet press into the floor ever so slowly and we can feel the floor pressing back up, connecting us to something bigger. That space. That slowing down…
What could I call it? Matrix style?
I tried capturing the concept of it in poetry, but the words would escape me. It seemed like something only someone who actually had experienced it would really grasp. And words didn’t seem sufficient enough to explain that space.
But then I would laugh, realising it’s not just in dance. It’s also IN the words, within poetry, lyrics, novels. I realised there too was that magical gap, a breath, a sigh, a whisper amongst the letters and phrases. They are not just to be seen, or thought through in the mind, but felt and heard, with the heart, and spirit.
It’s like a space that spirit grants us for a few seconds sometimes. A space that shows us and takes us into a realm of all possibilities. We come out changed, deeper, without even knowing exactly what happened. We just want to feel it and experience it, and be a part of it again.
And I remember thinking I wish there was a word for this. But how can there be for such a sparkly, stardusty concept that we can’t even hold in our hands? Could we ever find letters to capture it on paper?Continue reading