The Power of Dance – Only Dancers Can Understand

The Power of Dance

The Power of Dance – Only Dancers Can Understand

All those who, in some way, are related to dance understand the title of this article perfectly. Because when we speak of “power” we speak of an inexplicable sensation that makes you move to the rhythm of the music.

It is not a power related to victory or achieving a superior position over others, it has nothing to do with that type of power. We talk about POWER over yourself.  

An internal force that when you start dancing begins to grow and is capable of making yourself feel important, unique, and special, and that that feeling depends only on you and no one else, is sensational and multiplies that power by a thousand.

The gift of dance

When you are 5 years old and your mother «points you to dance» you are not aware of the beautiful gift she is giving you.

But without a doubt, at that moment what you do love is your pink jersey, your pink sneakers, your pink skirt, your pink hooks, your pink half points (which you lose two or three times a year) and your pink socks…. everything is perfectly pink, your paradise. And there it all begins.

In the beginning, it is a simple game that consists of attending class dressed in your favorite color, meeting people who also love pink, making your mother cry at every festival where you dance with your school, and the collection of videos of « the girl dancing ».

And it is that, in that first stage of “work” in which it seems that you “do nothing” in class, your body and your mind are receiving a thousand stimuli that are making that beautiful power grow within you.

The decision to keep dancing

When you are old enough to decide that you keep dancing because you like it, that power is already uncontrollable.

So it is your mother who sometimes regrets having signed you up because she has to pick you up Monday, Wednesday, and Friday to dance class just at the time of starting to make dinner or the beginning of the soccer game and the “weekends” at Marta’s house because you have all been to rehearse.

She is still not aware of the nice gift she has given you. And then you start saying the wonderful phrase:

“I CAN’T, I HAVE DANCE.”

– Let’s go to the cinema? -I can’t have a dance.

Are we going out on Friday? – I can’t, I have a dance on Saturday morning. 

And the thing is, that “I can’t” is the “I can’t” that is the least difficult for you to say in the whole world, because half an hour before rehearsal you shower (although yes, not at all because you’re going to have to shower again when you come back ) and you dress in dance clothes, even if it means going out into the street dressed like this (it seems very normal to us) and with a smile, you go out whistling to rehearsal.

And then, you realize that you have traded the paradise of pink for the elegance of black.

Dancing as a way of life

You get to rehearsal and the music starts. Just by warming up, the magic begins. Something rises from head to toe and invades your entire body. You control it and you are capable of everything, and if not, you know that with work you will achieve it.

You evade the world and let yourself go, and then nothing is more important: not an argument with your boyfriend, not work, not your insecurities … NOTHING.  It is the only way you have for your mind to put everything aside and that it is only important to feel, and if that is not power, let God come down and feel it.  

100 rehearsals, 50 anger from the choreographer, 20 frustrations with yourself, 10 torn socks, 5 pulls on the muscle, and 2 tensions with dance friends (because sharing passions makes friends, not partners), the day to dance arrives.

The stage, your best and your worst enemy

And that day, for some of us, it looks like a “mini” pre-menstruation depression: you don’t want to eat, you can’t sleep, your belly hurts, you don’t want to make you dizzy and you wonder why am I getting into this? ? A strange mix between illusion – desire and terror – nerves take hold of you.

You pack your performance clothes while you mentally review the dance pieces and run away from home insisting, 4 to 10 times to your mother, that she is not late.

You’re ready and even though your belly hurts from nerves and you can’t stop skipping with your dance friends when the music plays, you take a deep breath and that power returns. You go on stage feeling beautiful, you look for your mother in the audience, you look at each other and that’s when you both understand the beautiful gift she gave you when you were 5 years old.

And there it does not matter whether you are dancing at the Paris Opera than at your school festival, because the power you feel over you is exactly the same.

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