Dance is Process

I am Brazilian, but I did not grow up loving dance. In fact, I avoided it. To me, dance was a performance—something to be judged, perfected, or failed. My Type-A personality—something dance would later help me release—left little room for mistakes, which, in turn, killed all the fun.

Then, in 2019, I moved to New York. I was mostly feeling lonely at first, but slowly, I started building a crew of acquaintances. One of them once said that the only thing he missed in New York was a good place to dance. My Type-A personality jumped right in, eager to problem-solve for him. I didn't realize I was actually problem-solving for myself.

The First Attempt: 5Rhythms

My first attempt was with 5Rhythms. I saw on their website that they had dances almost every night, but Tuesday nights were special. Tickets tended to sell out in advance. I wasn't sure if I was ready yet, but I gave it a try.

I arrived at a building on 13th Street, 6th floor. New York holds its transformative spaces in these hidden upper floors—chocolate factories, Non-Violent Communication workshops... This was no different. I arrived a bit late. Maybe it was my way of coping with the intrinsic anxiety of trying something new. The door was closed, and about 15 people were waiting to get in. The person at the front said that after 15 minutes, she could assess who showed up and, provided there was enough room, we could enter.

I stared at a pile of shoes loosely organized in a tiny corridor leading to the smallest bathrooms. As the door briefly opened, I peeked inside. At that moment, I was puzzled. It seemed like a wild garden of movement, people flowing like leaves in the wind. I wasn't sure if I could shed my rigid structure and bloom into whatever organic form was needed to fit in. Then, the doorwoman came back: "Jonathan said it's okay for you to come in." Jonathan was DJing that night. He was the son of Gabrielle Roth*, the founder of 5Rhythms.

Finding My Rhythm

I got in—but I didn't belong. Maybe it was the sheer number of people moving together in chaotic synchronicity. I guess that if the fire department showed up, they would have shut the whole thing down. There were probably over 100 people in the room. Maybe this is why the doorwoman looked resigned when she stated that Jonathan had allowed everyone to get in. I tried to move, but it felt unnatural. I was like water refusing to mix with oil. I bumped into people. People bumped into me. I left after about 10 minutes.

But something in me really wanted to try again, maybe on another day with a smaller crowd. And I did. As I kept showing up, I got to meet new people—and new dances: Ecstatic Dance, The Get Down (now called Body Language), and more. Each dance floor had its own flavor, its own community. I was no longer bumping into people. I was dancing in harmony with the music and the room. I realized that something in me needed to adapt to communicate with that community. After all, people had been dancing in that fashion for at least 50 years. I had just stumbled into a lineage I didn't understand at first. But I got curious.

What began as an experiment soon became my sanctuary, my twice-weekly pilgrimage into movement. Dance became a lifeline, allowing me to flow through emotions, rhythms, and shifting states of being. People say that Gabrielle Roth*, toward the end of her life, was working to integrate 5Rhythms into live theater, and I can totally see that. In the same way that theater served as a cathartic therapeutic intervention for the Greeks, it can serve that function for us today.

I met new people—people I connected with deeply, yet never exchanged names with. Some of the most intimate experiences of my life happened without exchanging a word, existing together in pure movement. I kept running into familiar faces on different dance floors, each space offering a unique rhythm. Over time, I realized that dance had become a home I never had. It was a form of self-expression, of belonging, of healing.

Integrating Parenting and Dancing

Through dance, I began to understand something profound about process: like life itself, dance isn't about reaching a perfect final position but about staying in flow with the continuous movement. As my family grew, my relationship with dance evolved too.

I learned to navigate bringing my daughter to dance spaces—asking DJs about kid-friendly sessions, teaching her about shared silence, embracing the occasional tantrum. Dance floors welcome all forms of expression; I've seen tears flow as freely as movement. Still, helping my daughter understand these spaces has been its own dance, a delicate balance between validation and gentle guidance.

My daughter moves to her own rhythms, just as she has her own painting style—likely inspired by my husband, who prefers brushstrokes to dance steps. For her, both dancing and painting aren't segregated as "kid activities" or "adult hobbies"; they're simply ways to connect with those she loves.

Like dance, true art isn’t about perfection—it’s about presence. Our materialistic society reduces art to products, but children instinctively know better. To them, movement, color, and sound are not things to be mastered but languages to be spoken freely. If we make space for joy, we build deeper connections with one another. So here's my invitation, especially to parents anxious about their children doing the "right" kind of art: find what brings you joy first. Your authentic enthusiasm will naturally invite others—including your inner child—to join in. Whether that means spinning in circles or singing off-key, let it be genuine. Children are natural artists; they just need us to create a stage where they can be themselves.

Looking back, I see how dance catalyzed my transformation from a Type-A Brazilian who saw dance as performance to someone who flows between roles: mother, dancer, perpetual student of movement. Now when I step onto dance floors, what was once anxiety has become excitement—similar sensation, different attitude. I'm no longer searching for the 'right' way to move. I've found that I can bring a sense of home with me wherever I go, provided I have the courage to keep showing up, embracing the rhythm of life in all its messy, beautiful patterns.

To what do you want to keep showing up? Let's explore this together.

References:

• 5Rhythms – A global dance movement that emphasizes personal expression and transformation through movement. Website
• Ecstatic Dance – A freeform dance practice that fosters community, healing, and nonverbal connection through music and movement. My go-to dance floor in the Bay Area. Find an event
• Tasha Blank – A DJ, facilitator, and founder of The Get Down (now evolved into The Drop), a dance event focused on full-body expression and communal joy. More on Tasha

*About Gabrielle Roth: Gabrielle Roth developed 5Rhythms in the 1970s as a movement meditation practice. Working as a movement teacher at Esalen Institute, Roth observed that all life moves in waves, patterns, and rhythms. She distilled these observations into five core rhythms: flowing, staccato, chaos, lyrical, and stillness—a wave that mirrors not just dance, but life itself. She believed that by moving through five distinct rhythms one could access deeper layers of self-expression, healing, and transformation. Over the decades, her method grew into a global movement, influencing conscious dance practices worldwide.