Dance And Grief. Using Movement As Emotional Expression.

An aspect of grief that usually gets overlooked is the physical dimension. The emotional journey of grief often manifests in our bodies in various ways. That tightness in your chest, those aching shoulders—those can all be physical responses to emotional pain. So, how does combining dance and grief help with any of that? Well, it’s a form of exercise, sure, but it’s also so much more. Dance engages your whole body, providing an outlet for you to work through that physical aspect of grief.

But what does that mean for you? It means that when you’re grieving, paying attention to your body is crucial. Movement and rhythm can be powerful tools for easing the weight of loss. It won’t eliminate it altogether, of course, but can be very good at taking the edge off. Dance can benefit the physical body not just as a form of exercise, but as a conduit for emotional expression.

Ultimately, dance can provide that physical release and relief for us. It’s common to experience a surge of emotions that feels overwhelming even when you’re just watching a dance performance rather than doing it yourself. Through dance, you can channel those emotions into movements—leaping, twirling, extending—that bring an external expression to your internal state.

On top of that, you can get your heart rate up a little in a positive sense so you can benefit from the chemical effects on your brain. Physical activity, including dance, stimulates the production of endorphins. These are the body’s natural painkillers and mood elevators. So, engaging in dance not only helps to process your grief through physical expression but can also naturally lift your spirits.

Find Solace in Motion. How Dance Provides Relief

When grief enters your life, it often feels like an relentless and overwhelming wave. Finding ways to channel these intense emotions is always necessary for any kind of healing, and dance can serve as a powerful means to this end.

Consider how dance functions as a form of physical release. Those moments when grief feels like a physical weight on your shoulders, dance invites you to move, to stretch, to let go. Each step, each movement allows grief to seep out of your tense muscles, giving you some sense of relief, even if it’s small. There’s a healing power in just allowing your body to express what words cannot.

Engaging in the learning of a new dance form can be surprisingly therapeutic as well. It requires your full attention, which provides a much-needed respite from the cycle of ruminating thoughts. As you focus on the alignment of your body, the rhythm of the music, and the precision of your movements, grief takes a backseat, even if just for the duration of a song. In these moments, you might find a rare kind of peace amidst the turmoil. Even if you’ve never danced before and no dance background, learning from scratch can really help turn your mind away from what may be the agony of the present moment.

So, don’t worry about being an experienced dancer or looking weird because you have no skills. It’s not like you’re going to start looking to become a professional and dance on stage. The aim here isn’t to perform with technical excellence but to find solace and a momentary distraction that comes with physical exertion and creative expression. With each session, you may discover an evolving sense of calm, a growing seed of confidence, and, most importantly, the feeling of accomplishment that comes from mastering a new step or routine. These positive emotions are valuable pieces in the puzzle of coping with loss.

Speaking from personal experience with dance, for awhile I joined an adult ballet class for beginners. I have absolutely zero experience with ballet other than going to see the Nutcracker. But for one hour every week, I immersed myself in this new skill, and found it to be wonderful for taking my mind off anything bothering me. Sometimes it was frustrating but whenever I did finally do a step right, I definitely felt a moment of joy and accomplishment.

Communicating through Dance

You know when grief is involved, there are usually emotions so intense that words just don’t do them justice. Unfortunately, that’s the staggering power of grief. It’s an experience where sometimes, words are insufficient. This is where dance comes into play – or should I say, into dance.

Like any form of art, dance offers a medium to vent feelings that are too complex or overwhelming to articulate. Whether it’s the staccato of a tap dance mirroring anger, or the languid movements of contemporary dance embodying sorrow, every feeling has its rhythm, its expression in dance. Think about how you feel when you are dancing to a song you like or see others dancing to that song. It will trigger some kind of emotion in you, hopefully something good, right?

The process of channeling pain and loss into movement can be incredibly cathartic. By translating emotions into choreography, individuals can create a visual manifestation of their inner turmoil. They can tell their story, share their journey, and process their grief through the universal language of movement.

And improvisation in dance allows for an unscripted exploration of emotions. So, you don’t have to always follow a set routine. You can live in the moment and let your feelings guide your body. This can result in a powerful release, as movements emerge spontaneously, driven by the raw reality of grief. Wait until everyone is out of the house and you’re alone if you feel self conscious (I know that would be me). Then dance how you want without worrying about other eyeballs.

Dance, in this way, becomes a non-verbal form of communication whether you’re alone or with others. And if you happen to be surrounded by other people who understand the language of loss expressed in dance, here’s where you can find extra community and solidarity. Through shared movements, there can be a shared understanding, empathy, and healing.

Community and Choreography. Finding Support Networks in Dance.

Dance doesn’t have to be a solitary journey, unless you want it to be, especially when you’re navigating the complexities of grief. In fact, it’s often in community where the magic of dance as a healing tool truly shines. The right class or group not only teaches you the steps but also surrounds you with individuals who can empathize with your journey.

Music and the seamless flow of movement can provide a soothing backdrop for healing. As you move in sync with the rhythm, you may find a sense of peace that quietens the noise in your mind. It’s about letting the music carry you and allowing yourself a moment of escape while being fully present in your body.

By achieving small goals in dance, you might find yourself rebuilding some confidence shattered by loss. Each new step mastered and each dance completed is an accomplishment, a small triumph in the face of adversity, proving to yourself that progress is possible.

Remember, the beauty of dance lies in its diversity; there’s a style and a community out there for everyone. Whether it’s the expressive fluidity of contemporary dance, the uplifting beats of salsa, or the disciplined elegance of ballet, there’s a rhythm somewhere out there that resonates with your heart!

If dance really appeals to you as a possibility for emotional self expression, then joining dance communities can not only be about finding an outlet for grief, you might also wind up finding support, friendship, and perhaps a second family. Besides ballet, I also took adult ice skating lessons for awhile. You may not classify ice skating as dancing, but I mention it here because to me it has always looked like a form of dance on ice. I actually loved it even more than ballet and found a really great community at my local ice rink.

In these spaces, you’re not alone. Together, with every step and every beat, you can possibly move towards an form of healing, one dance at a time.

Do you have any experience with dance as an emotional outlet? Whether it’s on your own, in a class, or watching a performance? Let us know in the comments below!

As always, take good care!

Nikki