Anyone who knows me well enough to have partied with me, will know that I am a dancing MACHINE in da club. I pay no interest to my surroundings, I clamber on to tables, I shake what my mumma gave me and feel the rhythm flow through me like a tambourine. It’s become something of a joke between certain groups of my friends (you know who you are) that if you give Rosie enough beverages, she will climb onto an elevated surface and dance like nobody’s watching. (Except usually people are watching, which makes things awkward). She will throw her hair around like Britney Spears, and if Flo Rida comes on the beatbox then you had better lock up your children.
Needless to say, I haven’t really had the opportunity to hit the clubs whilst in Combe Martin, and I’ve been getting a bit restless for party time. Last night, my wishes were granted in the form of an ‘Ecstatic Dance Group’. Not my usual choice, but I will try anything once.
A woman who lives up the road has just returned from India, having been there for a month training in Ecstatic Awakening Dance and Yoga. She wanted to try out her newfound teaching skills and so we applied sturdy sports bras, got a group together in the living room and cleared out all the furniture. We were told to keep our eyes closed through the whole two hour class, because this type of dance is more of a meditation, where we look inside ourselves rather than at others.
We warmed up by just bopping along slowly to some wailing Indian music, rather self-consciously. I laughed to myself, once again, about the situations I find myself in, far too regularly. I was scared to move out of my little bubble, for fear of being hit by a flailing limb.
Prior to the class we had been warned that some bed and breakfast guests may arrive mid-class, I couldn’t help but wonder what they would think when they peeked through the door and saw a group of people, flopping their limbs around with their eyes closed.
The next part of the class was the Kundalini shake, which is meant to shake up all the energy in the body and work up to the ‘release dance’. It’s all quite sexual, really.
The motion was a sort of bouncing upwards and downwards from the knees and pelvis. I began a mild thrust then realised it was up and down, not back and forth. Awkward.
My knees jarred self consciously on every third or fourth bounce, and I giggled to myself as I thought about how I nearly wore a less supportive sports bra. I would have been unconscious on the ground at this point, had that been the case. I began to vibrate slightly, which was alarming.
Then we RELEASED THE ENERGY! I had acquired a lot of energy, and ideas for moves that would be really awesome. Every time we felt ourselves getting too carried away with distracting thoughts, such as “what the shit do I look like right now?”, we were to come back to the breath of fire, which went something like this: “sniff sniff haaaaaa, sniff sniff haaaa”.
Every time I got bored with my moves of squatting and shaking and swinging, I automatically opened my eyes a little bit, then forced them closed again (not without taking a peek at what the others were doing….sssshh.) Stewart was wandering about with his hips leaning forward and chin tucked in, fluttering his hands gently. Katherine was raging in the corner, threatening to smash the window pane with her jutting elbows. Somebody was rolling about on the ground, running their hands through their hair, another was crumpling gently in the corner to the rhythmic bump of an Indian drum.
I’m not going to tell you what I was doing, but I can assure you I had the best moves.
To conclude the class we did a meditation and joined hands in a circle…. Cute.
I felt so energised and wonderful afterwards, I went for a walk in the darkness to the beach! Dancing is good for your soul, and everyone should do it, no matter how much of a knob you feel like. If it’s really a problem, just close your eyes.
See, I thought I’d covered all the weird stuff, but it just keeps coming! Three more days here – who knows what could happen.
A little secret? I am scared to leave, and face the real world again… How am I going to deal with all of the choices I have to make, such as whether to drink red wine or white!?
I can’t even think about that right now.