Trance-A journey into the Unknown (1991)
I was recently asked at a dance what it was like to be truly with the trance effect of the African drums. I have been exploring intuitively this phenomenon for some time now but never had to explain what I felt to anyone. After a while I told her that it was like " leaning against a heavy door that all of a sudden gives way." The momentum of the resistance to surrendering to the magic of the music, once unleashed, can propel you into unbelievable seconds of freedom and ecstasy.
I have absolutely no training in dance, be it classical, modern or ethnic. Over the years I have always enjoyed dancing, with several periods of two or three years where my emotional states blocked me from enjoying music and free movement. I have gone to many African celebrations where I observed and marveled at the agility of dancers: young, old, fat and skinny alike. Not only did they obviously have a ball, but they seemed to be effortlessly flying through the air, as if carried by invisible threads obviously linked to the music. The master drummers appear to be puppeteers that could entice and hold the dancers in a magical and invisible (to me) web of rhythm. "Wow, if only I could do that! Well, they've been dancing since they were kids! It's in their genes!" My western conditioning would not give me license to enjoy my body the same way or to share the same communal unity that they did. No way!
Imagine my surprise when one day, quite unexpectedly, I found myself, for a fraction of a second, in apparently the same space of absolute surrender and sheer ecstasy! What was I willing to let go of, in order to shift, even for that brief a moment, into perfect harmony with the music? What in the music induced that state? It is obviously well known to indigenous cultures all around the world, and it is somewhat explained by scientists as a trance rhythm.
Our bodies, however minutely described by medical science, are still very mysterious. In my exploration of movement and life in general, more and more I tend to consider my purpose to be the process of remembering my true self, removing the obscurations of my mind and hopefully unveiling the magnificence of a divine being. So with that approach, I already know. I know that I have just forgotten what I already know, despite being told that I need more technique or knowledge!
My experience, often to my great surprise, has shown me time and time again, that everything is in our bones and cells. With enough trust and patience, I think we can have a great time remembering a lot of things that we think we do not know, that no one can teach us, or that we do not feel capable of learning.
How does all this relate to body movement? Well, from that premise, one's desire to discover and surrender to the magic of music can yield great results. We need to learn how to skillfully navigate around and heal our self-judgments and conditioning. From this point on I will refer to these obstacles as "the wall", to avoid redundancies!
My heart often feels for those stuck behind the wall, like watching some homeless people window shopping at Christmas time, with no hope of ever being able to afford such splendid clothes or gadgets. I also often feel that the wall that we communally create hinders my journey into trance. It would explain why indigenous tribal rituals are so effective in propelling participants into altered states, when people's intentions are geared towards creating windows through that wall that seems inherent to our human condition.
So from our western "state", how can we gradually recognize and familiarize ourselves with what makes up the wall and support each other in voyaging to the other side and bringing back to our people the gifts that the journey seems to contain: gifts of joy, timelessness and many other un-namable mysteries. How do we re-teach ourselves what we already know but have just temporarily forgotten, amidst the distractions and glitter of the industrial era? How do we empower ourselves to release the fears and negative thoughts that deprive us from playing, making fools out of ourselves and truly experiencing a more alive and vibrant self?
I would dare to answer these ambitious questions by inviting you to release all expectations that this society breeds, with its fixation on perfection. There is no "right way" to do it. Forget about style and techniques to begin with. Just venture to meet the music with your body -- all of it! Dare to go where spirited music is played, preferably live. Let your spirit do the driving. Let your intuition take you to where spirit is. Go with friends, with a commitment to explore, support each other lovingly, share your fears and apprehensions. Be patient and kind with yourself. Just like in meditation, watch the dance of your mind with all its convulsions and reasons. Amuse yourself by observing your judgments of yourself and others. See their effects on your movements and those of others. Always reaffirm your commitment to cut loose and truly experience bliss in your body-- it's your birthright! Your intent will slowly help you get closer to the wall; feel the gooeyness of its content, and soon it will give way.
Approaching the exploration of movement in that way will surely be very revealing with respect to your emotional baggage. It will be great therapy. You may agonize over the thickness of your wall. You may find yourself dancing an angry dance or a very sensual one. Let yourself be surprised and amazed by the expression of your inner world. Let it all be, it's all part of the journey, just as healing often reveals our many demons. Same job! Befriend them all, one after another. Feel their insubstantiality and ridicule. Invite them onto the dance floor. Because when you truly let go, they come with you, but instead of holding you back, they cheer you-up!
By being willing, committed and curious, I become more and more familiar with the texture of my wall. It also changes, revealing new layers in unpredictable ways. I try to be ready to accept what ever comes up and look it square in the eyes. I often monitor how my commitment to "looking good" hinders the freedom of my movements. At the same time I dare to show-off, stepping out of line and breaking from the unspoken collective agreement. I dance in that paradox. I avoid repetitions and patterns. Spirit does not await me behind an orderly arrangement of "Saturday Night Fever" moves. It lurks in the mist of the most disjointed, ridiculous and unexpected steps. It nips my butt when I truly say "yes" to going for it, with no holding back, even if it is just for a fraction of a second. I know then. The quality of sensations is beyond my normal range. My sense of connectedness and balance surprise me. It delights and scares me at the same time. Again, I am in that paradox.
Once inside that space of trance, or ecstasy or whatever you call it, I find it very difficult to stay for more than a second or two. When the (master) drummers are truly knowledgeable and aware of my connectedness with their magic rhythms, I may manage to sustain myself (or non-self) in that space for ten or twenty seconds at a time. It becomes an in-and-out thing, a play between the known and the unknown, a dissolving and reassembling of my perception. One remarkable thing is that it is invigorating rather than tiring. The efforts are only necessary to overcome the resistance to letting go. In the space of trance, something takes over and dances me. I feel weightless and my range of movement is extraordinarily amplified, along with my space perception and balance. There is no effort on the other side of the wall, just sheer fire, joy and life!
The fear that I experience pulls me back into the known, my conditioned assemblage, my zone of comfort. It's like a rubber band effect. I have noticed that in certain environments, such as night rituals, out in nature, with many people dancing freely and few people watching, my ability to sustain the trance increases. So choose your environments properly: hide in dark corners where no one sees you, disguise yourself so no one recognizes you, go out of town, be a fool away from home! Trick and stalk yourself to penetrate that wall. Be imaginative beyond reason. Give yourself permission to be outrageous and ridiculous. Believe me, you'll get used to it.
So I just went through that wall: the "writer's wall", similar to the one I have been describing all along. I do not know how to write or what to write. I am terrified to expose my words and thoughts to others for fear of being judged. I bear the scars of my school years. It took me a long time to come to the table and paper. I had all kinds of reasons and excuses and rationale to avoid writing. Once I finally surrendered to it, there too, something bigger than me took over. It was effortless and nourishing. In many ways I do not care if anyone will want to publish it or whether it will be shredded or praised. I surrendered to the impulse, the spirit, and I let it do its task. So, I'm happy, I did my job. I'm fulfilled.
Oh, I almost forgot. Take your shoes off as often as possible; I think it's one of the secrets!
With love,
Hugo
