Dancing With Wellness
One, two, three, five, six, seven.
One, two, three, five, six, seven.
Ba-ba-da-ba bababa-da
One, three, five, seven.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.
To many this may appear to be a random set of numbers and sounds but for me I hear the richness of congas [1] playing, coaxing my feet to glide across the floor in sync. Drums being beat to a sweet rhythm that begs my body to play with their musicality. Never knowing where the next song may take me, I find that when the music is on nothing else seems to matter as long as I can dance.
I can’t pinpoint the exact moment I fell in love with dance, I could say, however, that it probably started way back in my childhood and being the poster child for a 90’s Disney kid. I do instead know with certainty that one of the biggest reasons I love musical theater is for the large dance numbers. There has always been something about a seemingly group of strangers all singing and dancing in sync with precision, at a moment’s notice that has always captured me. I wanted to do that. I wanted to experience the joy that radiated from their smiles or so eloquently express the pain oozing from their hearts.
However, for most of my life I only got to witness this from the seat of the viewer, romanticizing my own life in my head to the songs of Dirty Dancing:Havana Nights or The Last Five Years. I often share with close friends that in my head my life is just one giant musical. It’s funny because dance ultimately found me in the most unassuming of places – college. I say unassuming because my college experience was not one of great adventure, invigorating studies, or house parties I’ll never forget; instead it was quite the opposite. While I didn’t know it at the time, I was depressed and completely lost, which were two things I had never been in life before. As I drowned I couldn't figure out how to come up for air. Then dance found me.
Through a classmate in my one credit ballroom class, I learned of a Latin dance group forming on campus. And though I knew absolutely nothing about Latin dance, I was moved to audition. To my surprise I made the team and practice by practice I found myself able to breathe again. I no longer felt suffocated in the world and, for the first time in a long time, it seemed that a pathway back to purpose was possible. I was learning to find peace within the intricacies of the movements, uncovering the poem hidden in the syncopation of the song. And in return the universe would show me something new and invite me to unearth something about myself with every hit of the Clave [2]. I had found that joy I was searching for as a child and the space to take my emotions and literally move through them. I felt a sense of peace on the dance floor.
I graduated college and capitalism took a hold of me straight into grind culture, the hustle, and doing the absolute most thinking that it would all eventually pay off for that ideal life. Can I tell you a secret? The ideal life never came. I had completely stopped dancing, and replaced that peace in my life with chaos. My work was chaotic, my romantic relationship was chaotic, my mental health was rapidly deteriorating, and eventually I would look in the mirror and not even recognize the woman looking back at me. Through what I can only attribute to the ancestors guiding me lovingly and patiently I made my way out of those chaotic places. Not having the chaos left a void in me that I yearned to fill but with what? Being constantly confronted with the words of Toni Cade Bamabra, “Are you sure, sweetheart, that you want to be well?… Just so you're sure, sweetheart, and ready to be healed, cause wholeness is no trifling matter. A lot of weight when you’re well.” [3] I knew I had to find something that would soothe my soul and, just as it always has been, dance was right on time.
The very people I had danced with in college now had a dance studio (shout out to Daync Academy) and I knew that this was exactly the place to start. Except this time I was going in with so many wounds. It had been almost a decade since the last time I had stepped foot onto a dance floor and I didn’t like the way I looked. I now had a knee injury, my self-esteem was at its lowest, and my self doubt at its highest. However, my wellness “was no trifling matter” and I was determined to take it back into my own hands. I took my first class in February of this year, and all of the joy and peace came rushing back to me at once. But this time, sadness, anger, grief, and disappointment came alongside it.I was crushed knowing that I had let something this critical to my life slip away for so long. Nevertheless, I continued to go and class by class, paso por paso, I began to find myself on the waves of the rhythm of the music. Dance had yet again allowed me to find that peace, fill the void the chaos left with a love so strong.
Dance is its own language. Devoid of words, but filled with the gooey movement of the body, it speaks to the deepest parts of us when we release our emotions through the eb and flow of limbs, torso, chest, and shoulders. It helps us discover in ourselves what it has always known. Dance is patient, kind, challenging, funny and honest. We all have a corazon that beats and thus we all have a dance. So how will you use it to find peace?
Find me dancing with wellness on social media:
IG & Tiktok: crafty_blackgirl
Congas - are a tall, single headed, narrow drum that originates from Africa. It is commonly heard in Cuban and Brazilian music. In Salsa music it serves as the heartbeat of the song.
Clave - a percussion instrument found in musical genres around the world, and its sound is the result of two sticks being hit together. It is commonly found in Salsa music and can be identified as a softer high pitch beat in the music.
Bambara, T. C. (2021). The salt eaters. Penguin Books.