Last night a DJ saved my life

Well it was last month actually, at Oh Shala festival, but it still feels as if it was yesterday.

I'd been desperately caught up in my head. My mind had been going round in circles.

What do I want to write about?

What do I need to share?

Should I be speaking up more about x, y, z?

Is it my duty?

What is my purpose?

So many questions.

So many unknowns.

And so much stress!

Life was feeling very serious indeed.

Then I went to Oh Shala festival. A small, well being conscious event in Buckinghamshire.

I'd seen the flyer which mentioned spoken word and a hand stand workshop! 

I was sold on going!

I contacted the organiser Emily and she agreed to me having a slot to share my spoken word.

Woohoo!

It was a great festival, really lovely site. Small and safe and loads of beautiful people.

The forest school was magical and my kids were happy.

I'd gone alone with them and it felt good. It felt easy.

They were even excited at the prospect of being on stage with me while I performed!

My set was glorious. I chose a good selection to share and even shared my 'rap' version of my poem ‘Power’ for the 3rd time ever.

On the Friday night I'd fallen asleep listening to the pumping sounds of some of my favourite 90s dance classics. I'd thought I might get out there after the kids fell asleep. But I fell asleep too.

I needed it.

But Saturday night I was ready to dance.

My performance had gone well. I had sold a book, received some lovely comments and someone even said they might like to book me for their event next year.

I was in celebration. 

I felt relaxed. 

And, I really really wanted to move my body.

The kids fell asleep quickly and our tent was so close to the main stage that I felt comfortable popping out.

I'd heard some pumping tunes and was ready.

I got to the main stage and the dj had swapped over. There were only about 20 people left.

The music was, er, not to my taste.

Not to many folks taste by the look of it.

Buzz had been... adjusted.

I was gutted. I was ready to dance but I couldn't dance to this.

I left the stage and headed to the fire.

I sat around a decent number of people and joined in singing a few songs.

It was nice.

Good vibes.

I could have stayed, it would have been OK.

But still I yearned to move my body.

But I knew there was one guy left to DJ on the main stage.

I headed over, hopeful.

He was playing reggae.

Really?

Reggae?

That's way too slow for me, I thought.

I need more.

Better.

Faster.

More like me.

Why wasn't it more like last night?

Those tunes.

That's what my body wants.

There were even fewer people now. Maybe a dozen.

I looked around, incredulous.

Are you guys for real?

Is this what you're dancing to?

I was looking around appealing to someone, anyone to share my feelings. To validate my experience and shock.

I realised I had no choice. 

If I wanted to dance, this was it.

I started to move more consciously into the space.

I started to let my body fully and freely dance how it wanted to.

There was so much space!

My feet were barefoot on grass and I could move anywhere and any way I wanted to.

I still felt uncomfortable.

This wasn’t what I wanted to hear.

I stayed with the discomfort. 

I leaned in. 

It wasn't what I wanted, but it was all I had so I may as well go with it. 

And then I allowed myself to tune into the lyrics, to really hear them. 

They were magical.

Uplifting and positive, just what I needed.

Then I noticed the DJ was sharing beautiful words too.

He was speaking now and again, adding his own uplifting, guiding and powerful perspectives.

I gradually realised that all of it was exactly what I needed to hear.

Every word.

And still more space.

People were dropping off, dropping out.

It was late.

It had been a big day.

At one point it was just me and the 2 organisers left dancing.

At one point it was just me!

And I danced and I stretched and I smiled and I received 

every word, 

every note,

every beat.

I allowed myself to appreciate it all.

To full be grateful for this whole experience.

I smiled as I danced.

My body fully expressed itself.

It was such freedom!

The kind of freedom I have dancing alone in my shed at home but here I was out in a field, on grass with my own personal DJ!

It felt so good.

It felt so good to let my body be fully free.

No longer in judgement.

Nothing to compare myself to.

Just absolute pure freedom.

And then, just as I was feeling so unbelievably and incredibly free and joyful and blissful, at that absolute peak, it got even better!

The DJ played some drum and bass! 

My absolute favourite!

You cannot imagine the glee and delight that overtook my body.

The skip and the bounce that felt so familiar in my muscles and bones.

What a treat! 

It felt like a reward!

A winning bonus.

And it was beautiful drum and bass. Really beautiful sounds.

A few other people appeared out of the shadows and came to move.

Came to dance.

Smiles on every face.

That pure, beautiful, magical connection shared on the dance floor with people you don't know.

Strangers no longer, connected though the rave.

He played 4 or 5 drum and bass tunes before closing his set and I couldn't have felt any better.

Pure ecstasy.

Fuelled by nothing other than water and the music.

I returned to my tent rejuvenated, refreshed, nourished, inspired and ALIVE!

I sat and wrote for an hour.

I felt amazing.

I felt me again. 

Connected with my self, with my body. 

And connected with my soul. 

This is what dance is for me.

Pure connection.

Yes with others, that is joyful.

But it's connection with me that matters most.

That's where I come back to my own personal freedom.

That's where I feel fully alive.

The DJ was Yogiman.st and he's a regular at Oh Shala. Emily knows what she's doing by booking him each year.

I spoke to him afterwards and he said he hardly ever plays drum and bass. Something just told him to put some in the bag. 

Vinyl records that is.

(Did I mention he played every track on vinyl?

That's pretty rare these days.) 

I'm so grateful for that whole experience. 

The eagerness, the insistence. 

Then the discomfort. 

The disbelief. 

The RESISTANCE! 

How amazing is resistance at always popping up so hard just before an experience that can be life changing?

 If you want to come and dance for yourself, freely in the woods, come and join myself and Kelly Fairy for our next Wild Women Retreat Day!

There will be dancing, yoga, wild swimming, wood fired sauna, hot tubs, cold dip and beautiful connection with ourselves, each other, and the land. Your nature fix with glorious women!

Sunday 29th September

12-6pm, Silverstone, Bucks

£123 - book your place here