Follow the joy

Ecstatic dancing my way out of my head.

In a recent article/newsletter (I never know what to call these things?) I wrote about my affinity to boxing. And now I share with you dear readers, a new form of joy that I have discovered. Ecstatic dancing. That’s right, I’ve become a full blown hippy and want the world to know.

Historically, my experience of dancing began with attempting the running man at bar mitzvahs, in the playground and in the mirror. Over time I moved onto more sophisticated moves, such as the iconic two finger gun salute at UK garage raves and the hands in the air moment, at any piano breakdown section of a house tune, on dance floors across the globe - from Ibiza to Watford.

Over time though, I sort of just stopped dancing. Sure, there would be the odd wedding and an occasional moment at a festival, but for the most part it was something I’d left behind as I moved into the world of adulting.

But, last year was the start of rediscovering my love for moving my body to the sounds of music. This time was very different to my past experiences, which were often accompanied by alcohol, drugs and general hyperactivity.

I wrote my very first Substack in Bali and it was there that I started going regularly to ecstatic dance events. I first felt the pull last year and don’t think there’s any coincidence that it coincided with my foray into ze psychedelic journey.

It’s funny how certain things in life don’t seem appealing, but then as they re-enter your periphery you view them through a different lense. I’d always had an image of ecstatic dance being full of naked hippies, laughing manically and hugging each other.

I attended my first dance last Summer in North London, which is run by Urubu who put on ecstatic dance and wellness events across the capital and beyond. It was in the middle of the ‘breakdown’. You know the one that I’ve referenced before? Yeah that one. So needless to say, dancing was not top of the pops in terms of priorities. But despite that, I dragged/cycled my way there.

Upon arriving, I noticed that the ambience was a complete contrast to my previous ‘clubbing’ experiences. Firstly, there was no moody bouncer on the door, no exclusive guest list, or any sense of ego or aggro. I showed my ticket, walked in, hung up my jacket and made my way to the dance floor.

Unfortunately everyone there was wearing clothes and so I stood out like sore thumb/flaccid penis. I jest, I’d never allow myself to be flaccid in such a public display of nakedness.

Once I got over the fact that everyone was fully clothed, I shimmied to a spot on the dance floor. And whilst muscle memory had me itching to do the two finger gun salute, I resisted and observed my surroundings. The night was just getting started, the music was gentle and I noticed that people all around me were stretching.

Did I take a wrong turn and end up at a nocturnal yoga class? No, I soon discovered this was part of proceedings. We were all encouraged by the DJ and founder of Urubu, Seth Newman, to settle into our bodies as he explained the “rules”. No talking on the dance floor and no observing others. We were encouraged to dance with others, but if they didn’t want to dance back - that was fine - they could make a prayer sign as a polite “thanks but not thanks” type thing.

As the music picked up in pace, we were asked to walk round the dance floor and smile at our fellow dancers. It felt odd, unfamiliarly friendly - the antithesis of a night out in London. As the music lowered, Seth encouraged us (via a microphone BTW - it’s not like he had booming loud God like voice - it was actually very soft, gentle and welcoming - unlike my internal monologue) to sit in a circle.

We were asked to close our eyes and connect with an intention for the evening. I get it, sounds super woo woo right? And it kind of is, but I was just happy to spend a few hours without my frenemies, anxiety and depression. Next, we were handed out a small cup of cacao, which is like a really bourgeoise type of chocolate superfood powder, that supposedly has heart opening qualities. No, you’re a fucking hippy!

Whilst others held their cup to their heart to set their intention, in my excitement I accidentally spilled half of it on the the dance floor. This has since become a recurring ritual at every subsequent dance I’ve intended and I’m now known as ‘el spillage’. Blame it on the ADHD.

Fast forward an hour and I was jumping up and down in glee, all inhibitions thrown out of the window and my world weary troubles long forgotten. I was beginning to understand why it was called ecstatic dance. I did feel euphoric oh and one major thing I forgot to mention, everyone there was sober. No alcohol or drugs, just good vibes and shit loads of cacao.

As the evening came to a close at a very respectful 21:45, Seth instructed us to once again form a circle and to verbalise how we felt. One by one people shouted out “joy”, “connection” and whatever else they felt. I wanted to shout out “surprised” but held back. I did not expect to have a dancing renaissance at 41 years old. But there I was, sitting in a circle post ecstatic dance, holding hands with strangers as I shouted out “sweaty”!

As the dance floor emptied, tables were brought out and laid out with platters of fresh fruit. Could this night get any better? It was at this point that all the stored up curiosity, about who my fellow rapturous dancers were, was satisfied. This was the moment that everyone started chatting. It was interesting to observe a similar pattern. Many people had given up drinking alcohol and wanted to find somewhere they could still have a fun night out. And this was certainly that.

All in all, it was memorable evening and kickstarted my ecstatic dance…dance? Some cool things have since come out of it this lil’ exploration, that I could never have predicted. At the time I was in crises mode and just wanted to find something to get me out my head. And it worked, it really did. But I did not expect that I would meet some cool people, who have since become good friends. And also how it would push my “edge”.

By that I mean, there is a softness and playfulness to ecstatic dance. Historically, when I would go clubbing in my younger years I would mainly attempt to dance with someone of the opposite sex to “pull” them. Whereas now, it’s more fun driven and slowly I’ve learned to drop my inhibitions at the door and jump, whoop, clap with utter abandonment.

The whole process is strangely therapeutic, the aim being to get out of your head and into your body. And the best thing is - I’m home in bed by eleven and wake up feeling fresshhhh.

So there you go, that’s my take on ecstatic dance. Am I ecstatic? Sometimes, yes. Have I become a hippy? No, I still worship money like the rest of us, but I have added some more joy into my life and that can only be a good thing.

What is something that you’ve recently discovered or rediscovered that has brought joy into your life? Comment below.

Also, if you’ve been enjoying these posts and feel that they are adding value to your life in some way, then I’d encourage you to become a paid subscriber. If you do, I might even invite you as my guest of honour to an ecstatic dance, where I promise not to do the two finger gun salute.

Also also - I’ve used an image for this article that I created with AI. Apparently it’s a thing. So I might carry on doing that.