Every time a period film comes on, I bemoan that community dances are no longer a thing. I love dancing and find there are not enough opportunities to dance in the company of others (especially now that I’ve entered my midlife renaissance). While clubs were fun back in the day, I recently sought a different kind of collective dance experience.
What
Attend a Cville Dance Co-Op event.
Why
Because opportunities to dance freely are rare—and therefore precious.
How it went
I left with a fuller heart.
Upon arrival, I found myself whispering calming nothings to the butterflies moshing in my gut. Choosing to dance with a room full of strangers is a vulnerable—and exciting—decision. Everyone I met inside de-escalated my anxiety as they went out of their way to make me feel welcome and oriented.
I learned that the co-op’s dances occur shoeless, but indoor shoes are permitted for folks who need added support. I shucked my sneakers and made the suggested donation, which goes toward covering the venue expenses. The organization is completely volunteer-run.
People trickled in as the start time neared. Some stretched while others set up little base camps at the dance floor’s periphery, particularly families with small children. We took our places, seated on the floor, for the opening circle. The volunteer who created the playlist for the dance shared some context for her intentions while making it and hopes for how it would move us during our time together.
Noting several new faces in the bunch, organizers talked about guidelines for the dance, including the consent norms. During co-op dances, there is no talking. Participants are welcome to dance together (if everyone involved consents, of course) and contact improv is common. Two experienced members of the group modeled how to seek and grant consent wordlessly. They highlighted the importance of establishing eye contact, giving clear nonverbal body language, and respectfully nudging an arm with an elbow if the moment presented itself.
Then it was time to dance. Session playlists provide structure to the dance’s flow, curated for tempo and vibe. Matching the music’s energy, we moved slowly at first. Some continued stretching through the first songs while others did a combination of stretching and dancing. I’m not gonna lie: It felt really good to move my body and stretch like that.
As we warmed up, so did the tunes. People moved in all sorts of ways. I won’t detail the movement styles, because ecstatic dances are apparently like Vegas in that “what happens there stays there.” Some folks, like me, danced solo the entire time. Others partnered with various people. With no dance style requirements or coordinated choreography, participants move organically—in response to the music, others, and the energy in the room—as an act of meditation.
For me, the experience was extremely liberating and fulfilling. My inner child had me twirling like a ballerina at times. Other songs prompted me to move like I never had before, doing whatever weird, wonderful expressive movement with my body that felt right in the moment. The freedom from judgment that is essential to the co-op’s culture made the experience enjoyable and cathartic.
During the time when the music felt most energetic, I had the urge to rest a moment. I lay down on my back on the floor with my arms and legs splayed, essentially assuming “corpse pose.” The beat of the music and the rhythmic thumping of dancers’ feet sent vibrations through me. I listened to my heartbeat and experienced deep gratitude that music and dance can unite a room full of strangers so well.
The Cville Dance Co-Op hosts public events on Thursdays and Sundays. Dancers of all styles, comfort levels, and abilities are welcome.
Cville Dance Co-Op