Imagine to Remember

Observe a group of children and you will find many of them cannot sit still for long. They sing, make beats on their desks, tap, hum, bounce, sway. Music is not necessary, they happily make up their own songs. They seem to be always in some form of dance. Completely In tune with the natural rhythms of their own bodies and the life force that pulsates through all things. Some retain this movement into adolescence. But by adulthood, it is beaten out of us many of us, if not literally, figuratively. But it is never stamped out completely and so we are forced to make concessions for this energy that simmers and bubbles inside us. It must be given some sort of reprieve, a release for all the pressure we build holding it back. Whether at the club, or rave, at a wedding or the privacy of our own rooms. 

I used to marvel at the aunties in my family and community, so controlled, so righteous, in everyday life. Women who spent a lifetime trying to suppress and control this will to movement. But at a wedding or a party, safe from the prying eyes of men and free from the demands of their children, they would dance. With the reverberation of the drums feeling like it was coming from inside my own body I would watch women old enough to be my mother, grandmother even, jumping, swaying, shaking and dripping with sweat. All bad backs, hips and knees were made new again in the beat of the drum and bass of the speakers. Some would dance and sing for hours. Others sat contentedly on the sidelines revelling in the euphoria of it all, swaying and clapping, cheering on the performers.

My friends and I would laugh and poke fun at these women; aunties, mothers and grandmothers, who seemed to live only for these events. But with maidenhood behind me, I understand these women. The routines of daily life give us little to no outlets for this longing to move. I understand the toll it takes on body and spirit and I understand their desperation for salvation. Dance is also my refuge. As a young girl I would dance for hours with my friends. Sometimes we made up elaborate choreography or attempted to recreate the moves we saw in music videos but most of the time we just moved our bodies. And even now sometimes I just need to dance and dance until I reach a happy exhaustion. 

The aunties have their parties, young people have their clubs, raves and festivals, but they are all alike in their chase of ecstasy. And this what dance offers us, freedom from the mind, union with the body and attunement with cosmic vibration. People are yearning to move. In this culture, the only time many people only dance and move freely without pretension is when they are under the intoxication of drugs; what a tragedy. I’ve always worried about people who do not dance; who do not move for movement’s sake, stiff and rigid at all times. People who are not the least bit swayed by the music, who cannot bop their heads or even keep the beat with the tips of their fingers or the soles of their feet. And there was a time when I was one of these people. Denying myself in the name righteousness While therapies have their place, this for sure I am more and more convinced that what most of us need is a return to the body.