Tuesday 15.10.2024

‘Ecstatic’ or ‘Conscious’ Dancing: Awareness on the Dance Floor

Many of us find our way to nightclubs for a dose of dancing and letting go. But there are alternatives on the market that offer a similar release for a different crowd. Since its introduction in 2012, ‘ecstatic dance’ has gained a loyal following in the Netherlands, bringing together a community excited to move to the beats of popular DJs – without alcohol or drugs. More recently, a concept known as ‘conscious dancing’ has emerged, also promoting a substance-free environment with a focus on creating a safe space for dancers. But are such separate concepts necessary? Isn’t all dancing, whether in nightclubs or alternative spaces, inherently conscious or ecstatic? Or is a truly safe dance floor an ideal that’s still out of reach for regular nightclubs?

Until eight years ago, I had never heard of ecstatic dance. It turned out my then-new in-laws were regulars of such events, and they informed me a great deal. These nights were known for dancing without substances, without predatory behaviour, without talking, and even without shoes. A space where you could dance however you felt, purely for the joy of letting go.

Of course, it wasn’t long before I was invited to join them. Yet in eight years, I never did. Why? I’ve asked myself that question a few times. Initially, I didn’t quite understand the concept (and, if I’m honest, this entailed a bit of judgment). Isn’t all dancing ecstatic? Isn’t club dancing also an honest expression of how you feel in the moment? But I came to realise it’s not just about dancing ecstatically, it’s about the entire experience from beginning to end.

When you walk into a club, there’s often an abrupt shift from standing in line to being thrust into a loud, sweaty room. It takes a moment to adjust (usually resolved by getting drinks or a cigarette first). In contrast, at ecstatic dance events, you’re eased into the experience. The first songs are slow, allowing your body to relax. Some people first watch from the sidelines, enjoying the sight of others moving freely. As the beats intensify, people dance without inhibition, knowing there’s a silent agreement: everyone moves as they feel, without judgment, shame, or unsolicited interaction.

As much as I would like to say that shame has no place in nightclubs, we must admit that social norms around ‘coolness’, clothing, and dance styles often shape the atmosphere. And there’s nothing inherently wrong with that. Club culture is a subculture, just like ecstatic dance. It must be noted that I’ve also heard that, in some cases, the shamelessness of ecstatic dance is more of an ideal than a reality. Also during such events, the atmosphere can be dominated by those trying to be seen, more focused on making connections than personal freedom. Nothing is perfect, I suppose.

Not so long ago, a sponsored post popped up on my social media feed promoting a new-ish concept: conscious dancing. An article from De Havenloods Rotterdam [https://www.dehavenloods.nl/nieuws/algemeen/53566/rotterdam-danst-steeds-vaker-zonder-drank-en-zonder-geitenwol] described it as a night of substance-free, group-oriented dancing, focused on intuitive movement and meditation rather than performance. This sounds a lot like ecstatic dance but with more emphasis on mental release than on physical ecstasy (although the two often go hand in hand). The article also mentioned that conscious dancing tries to shed the ‘geitenwollensokken’ (a somewhat insulting term for eco-conscious, alternative types) image that ecstatic dance and similar practices often carry.

I wonder, why do we feel such a need to label things? And why the judgement? To be fair, ecstatic dance can have a reputation for attracting the more ‘spiritual’ crowd. But this stereotype feels outdated. These events now attract a diverse mix of young people, full of energy, letting loose and keeping close bonds. As I get older, the idea of enjoying a night out fuelled by my own dopamine and waking up as a ray of sunshine sounds more and more appealing. The truth is, ecstatic and conscious dance attracts a wide variety of people, which makes labelling these experiences seem unnecessary.

I must and want to make a similar plea for club nights. The argument that ecstatic or conscious dance events offer a safer space to party than nightclubs is just not right. Again, why the judgment? People (me included) can feel alive and euphoric in clubs. There’s a unique sense of togetherness when everyone loses themselves in the same beat or song. I imagine this is a feeling visitors to ecstatic dance nights also experience. Some argue that the difference, then, lies in the crowd – and in their substance use. On one hand, I get it: being on a totally other level than the other club visitors can feel alienating, sober in a crowd of mad men. But being ‘mad’ doesn’t necessarily mean being bad. Not everyone in clubs is there to score, and not all substance use leads to extreme behaviour that cringes others out. These are prejudices. In fact, clubs (and festivals too) are actively addressing problematic behaviours, with awareness teams patrolling the floors to ensure everyone’s safety. These teams engage with partygoers, intervene when something feels off, and provide feedback to organisers on ways to improve the environment. In my experience, they do a commendable job.

Whether it’s ecstatic dance, conscious dancing, or an old-school techno club night, I support any environment where people feel happy and safe. But let’s stop with the judgment (from all sides!). Being aware and considerate is essential in every setting, and we all share the responsibility of looking out for each other and ourselves. And dance our socks off in the process.

Words by Indira Huliselan | 15.10.2024