Muse Power: How Recreational Music Making Heals Depression and Other Symptoms of Modern Culture (Chapter 5, page 2 of 15)


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Chapter 5

Almost everyone is dancing, many of them holding beers and swirling wildly also, looking as if they might fall over any moment, but I'm looking at something beyond that. I'm seeing an energy field that is being created in this place. I'm seeing the release of life tensions and stress, I'm seeing the human spirit and it's need for expression in the dancers, and I'm seeing the deeper call for connection that every one there, conscious of it or not, is feeling. Sadly, I'm also seeing the symptoms of a sick culture in the rampant abuse of alcohol, with easily ¾ or more of the people there either drinking or already drunk and stumbling visibly. For a moment I wonder how many of them have a close place to fall down in and how many will have to drive to their lonely homes again at 2 am when the club closes. I am deeply touched by their sadness and can see in their vacant eyes how lost they feel, how confused and how overwhelmed they are. I am mostly amazed by the tenacity of the human spirit, here at 1 am, most of them having worked 8-10 hours today and going back to it early in the morning, yet they are here, night after night.

I spent a lot of time in clubs in my teens and twenties. It was a huge part of my life because I needed to dance and I needed connection with others in that space. I needed it like water. When I was young, I would often break down and cry in my room at night because I had this unyielding dream, a call of sorts, to dance with people around a fire, and pray thru my body. Raised in an ultra-conservative home and environment, I had no idea what this was about at that early age, only that somewhere in my bones, I felt like I had been stuffed into the wrong body, in the wrong time and I was misplaced. I had my own bedroom ritual where I'd put on headphones and dance for hours until I was sweating like crazy, until I collapsed on the ground. My parents always thought I was doing homework! I was such a good student they just assumed all that time was in the books. I couldn't tell them, they just wouldn't understand, still don't! I was raised in a family that had very little appreciation, or even tolerance, for artistic or expressive activities. Life was about work, usually work you didn't like and making as much money as possible, all else was a frivolous waste of time, except nature I suppose. My father really instilled a deep love of nature in us.

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