March 29, 2009

Dance It Out

I feel the need to "dance it out" today.

Purge my soul...empty my brain...set my body free.

For those non-Grey watchers...Meredith and Christina...best friends and Resident Surgeons on the show (sometimes other female characters on the show join in-you know, common bond and all)...when they suffer the inevitable man troubles, have hearts on the mend, are crushed by the weight of troubled minds, suffering guilt from mistakes they have made (in their case-often life altering errors), or merely need to release aggression,frustration, aggravation or burn off stress... Jeans/scrubs off...whatever could be deemed constricting...Freedom of restriction is completely mandatory to the process...

and then, they "dance it out."

In full out pajama party fashion-they turn up the music loud...louder...right there perfect. Screaming thoughts drowned out by impassioned lyrics and penetrating rhythms.

Feet start out tapping, then stepping...as the momentum in the music builds and swells...jumping in time...Stomping guilt out under the pound pounding of their feet. Aching heart eased by the beloved distraction as it's busted free from it's mournful, rhythmic beat and it speeds with the building movement. Boom, boom, boomity boom...

Weary body gives itself over to the music as the melody washes straight through. Baptism by bass. Hips swaying, then shaking, pumping-circling...Shoulders roll, arms raised in surrender. Swaying, Hands grasping, punching, circling as dictated by the pulsating beat. Sadness seeps...anger works it's way out- frustration releasing in the form of energy spilling through every pores...Back snake like and writhing...releasing pain with each rolling motion. Hair moving with every sway and shake of the head...Feeling anything but the music becomes impossible...

Move it, rock it, feel it, twirl it, kick it, roll it, heal it, groove it, get it, round and round... move it up, take it down... sway and swing. Jump, bounce-shout... spin and turn until it sorts itself out.

Beat gets louder, faster, building...higher... keep momentum. Climbing... Maintain at full speed as long as you possibly can...it's the only way.. Whatever it takes. .one song, two, seven...ten...

Crescendo.. panting...harder-until all that is left to do is gasp...

Collapse.

Either in exhaustion, laughter filled tears or tear filled laughter.

Possibly blissful release.

"Dancing it out" is reserved for high low and in between...

For the thrilling, exhilarating, can't get any higher... filled to the rim and over flowing. Bubbling over with bliss. This moment could not be richer...I am so full I could burst- exploding in a exulted state of unadulterated joy...

For the stuck in the middle...got to do something to make me EXIST... be it exultation, anguish, rage or gratification. Splash vivid color on my canvas, speed my pulse...depart from this nothing redundancy that slumps us all from time to time. Breeding the hunt for the FEEL.

and...

For what I call "no air moments"...when the one thing I need is the sweet cleanse of deep breathing...but instead my lungs clench up...my nostrils paralyzed...panic sets in...Prayer seems mandatory...but I am suffocated by the neediness of my humanity... Like the fear so deep that all you can do is scream out but irony has yanked your voice. , For those dark moments when I feel like breaking... giving myself-soul, mind and body-over to the million tiny cuts I spend my life trying to mend with band aids of futility...only to find a deeper one when the bandage is lifted for inspection...When I want to lay in a ball on the floor and let the darkness set in because there aren't arms big enough to encompass me...

Those are my "dance it out moments"...

Girls have been dancing it out for years...to slightly alter the words of Edward (my favorite vampire and yours)...

Dancing "is exactly my brand of heroin"...

of which I have never partaken...

but I get the drift. If it provides a release that is anything like dancing.

Who needs therapy when you have music?...Haha- and a blog.

Don't believe me?

I'll show you how this works...turn up the music...

I could teach a class...call it Cathartic Funk.

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