Everything moves. And everything moves to a rhythm.
And everything that moves produces a sound; that is happening here and all over the world at this very moment.
Our ancestors noticed the same thing when they tried to escape from the cold in their caves: things moved and made noise.
The first human beings perhaps looked on this with awe, and then with devotion: they understood that this was the way that a Superior Being communicated with them.
They began to imitate the noises and movements around them, hoping to communicate with this Being: and dancing and music were born.
When we dance, we are free.
To put it better, our spirit can travel through the universe, while our body follows a rhythm that is not part of the routine.
In this way, we can laugh at our sufferings large or small, and deliver ourselves to a new experience without any fear.
While prayer and meditation take us to the sacred through silence and inner pondering, in dance we celebrate with others a kind of collective trance.
They can write whatever they want about dancing, but it is no use: you have to dance to find out what they are talking about.
Dance to the point of exhaustion, like mountain-climbers scaling some sacred peak.
Dance until, out of breath, our organism can receive oxygen in a way that it is not used to, and this ends up making us lose our identity, our relation with space and time.
This text was taken from my book The Witch of Portobello