Dance Me Outside Under The New Moon

The power and danger of dance

Last month I had the opportunity to go to a rave under a bridge on the new moon. There were too many variables and stubborn old fears that I said no. I had a month to think about it and plan…

That is a very rare girly moment my mom had to capture on camera of me on the left back in Roxboro, Quebec. I was a little younger than I was in this photo when I went to my first and last ballet class as a young girl.

We wore the traditional pink ballet slippers and itchy tights and leotards. The teacher asked us to raise ourselves up on our toes and then proceeded to guide us to a pretend “market” and then a pretend shop and then a pretend… Bloody fucking hell. This was NOT dancing. I stopped and asked, “When will we go on point?” The teacher, taken aback by this insolent five-year-old interrupting her class so rudely replied, “Girls do not go on point until they are young women. Don’t interrupt me again.”

That was the last ballet class I went to as a child. I went back as a teenager but never made it to dancing on point. I still ruined the arches in my feet but at least I never broke any toes although I would have been so proud of myself if I had. OMG so fucked up right? It does not end there. Starve yourself and smoke cigarettes to stay thin? That was “the way”, especially if you studied ballet.

After that we moved to Toronto and I finally said yes to taking dance again. This time? Tap!!! A safe place for my feet to sing that my mom did not have to listen to? Yes please! Fred Astaire was one of my first loves after all. Soon after that jazz, then, yes, ballet.

I will always be grateful for the many years I studied dance. It taught me self-discipline (which I LOVED!) but unfortunately it also taught me how to celebrate being a masochist. I became very good at harming myself including self-starvation. I learned that suffering shows how much you love your form of art which is such bullshit, I know now as an adult woman. Then, there was the talent show. Something I still have a hard time thinking about. Let’s just say that once teenage boys see you in an electric blue shiny one-piece dancing on a stage, they never see you the same way again. Talk about shadow work. I had never been ashamed of my body as a dancer until that moment and it followed me for years and even put me in danger. Lots of danger and the consequences followed me from junior high to high school when I finally said, no more dance classes. I am done.

Me front left

Then something amazing happened! School dances. No choreography to remember, no one telling me what to do (although I loved and worshipped you Marjorie!) and I never knew what song was going to come. I could wear whatever the hell I wanted and my body was free. Absolutely free!!! I started to go to dances in high school by myself and danced in the corner alone. Boys were too scared to approach the weird girl dancing by herself so it was perfect. It was the most free I had felt in my life. Dancing, which I loved, and ZERO rules! I could be all of me in a crowd.

After that I danced whenever and wherever I could. I begged my friends to go dancing and sometimes they relented and I was a wild woman on the floor. Then one night in university I had way too much to drink and ended up in the back room of a club surrounded by a dozen men and was too completely wasted to know what was happening or defend myself. I was absolutely lost in the music and alcohol. Someone found me and dragged me out of there but once again, dancing almost got me into a ton of danger. I stopped drinking. I stopped dancing. It was not worth it any longer.

Time Warp To The Future

As a grown adult, where do you go to dance? I have broken arches in my feet thanks to all the years of dancing in shoes that strangled my feet (took me a decade to be able to wiggle my toes again) and since there was no place to dance I just danced in the privacy of my own space.

When the invitation to dance outside arrived, a part of my mind just stopped working. Now there was a place to go. Through a park. Under a bridge. At a rave under the new moon, the darkest night of the month. How the fuck was I going to do this?

Getting Ready

I started doing my “shadow work” ASAP. The person who invited me is fairly new to me but someone I instinctively trust. I had someone I wanted to go with who loves dancing even more than I do which blows my mind. Next of course was what was I going to wear? LOL!

As you know I am studying shamanism. I have learned insomnia and fear all begin with the root chakra and its colour is red. I have also since discovered, I own zero red anything except one shirt that says “Witch Please.” So I treated myself! I make and design jewelry for goddess sake! My birthstone? Garnet! One of the stones that speaks to the root chakra.

I started coming up with ideas and creative looks. When I thought about dancing all night to house music I realized, I wanted the earrings to dance too! In order to do that? They had to be light but I did not want them to be too simplistic. I decided to symbolically set myself free despite my subconscious connection to dance in a negative way:

Chain. It had to be chain so I chose the lightest repurposed chain I had and instead of my classic silver went with a burnished bronze with matching findings. Super light, I hardly know they are there until I start moving and each time I do, I invite my root chakra to dance with me.

I also purchased some petrified wood which is fossilized wood which can also contain quartz. What is more grounding than a tree? Seriously? The symbolic nature of wearing something from the deep past that has roots that I can take with me anywhere? This witch said, yes please! I liked that it was flat so I could attach a bail and did consider drilling a hole but I just could not do either. Instead…

I am not always a fan of wrapping pieces in wire in case they feel caged but this? This worked! This felt right and I am all about following the energy. I created a short leather thong choker for it and was one step closer to being ready to dance in the dark.

For the record, I almost never dress up. I am a jean shorts and controversial tanktop-wearing witch in the summer. There is this Egyptian Siamese cat dress I bought at the beginning of the pandemic that I promised myself I would wear when it was over.

I did not realize I would be wearing it out in a park but that was fantastic! The only issue? The pockets. They had to go. So I faced another fear… My sewing machine. I got it out and the pockets are now history.

We got to the event hosted by the lovely jess__tunes (𝓓𝓙 𝓳𝓮𝓼𝓼 ♫) and she greeted me and told me she had the exact same dress! Not only that but she complained about the pockets, LOL. I told her I removed mine and felt so welcomed. They started with “oldies” musics which I of course recognized every song. As each one started I waited for the song to tell me its dancing story and then let it fill my body and move.

I should have probably paced myself but just wanted to embrace the night and paid for it the next day but who cares? I have fibromyalgia, pain is always there and this? This was healing on a level that I haven’t enjoyed in decades. It was a beautiful event and even families came. The energy was so positive, I finally felt at home in my new city.

Wearing my earrings as I type this!

I learned that it is never too late to reclaim a part of yourself that you love. It may be scary, it may even be a bit dangerous, but it is worth it. I refuse to let fear keep me small and steal my dancing shoes. The healing journey is never over and for once, I am glad. I dusted off and found a part of me who caved into fear in my 20s when I have promised myself never to let that happen. Now, I won’t. Next new moon? You know where I will be!