It was an innocent plan, to go to an ecstatic dance on a Saturday night. We had been a few times before and it’s always a great idea of a good time giving your all on the dance floor with a bunch of barefooted hippies. Yet this night turned out slightly different.
You have to know ecstatic dances here are done completely sober. The only substance we take is cacao. All the way from Guatemala, ceremonial grade, all that jazz. We inhaled the scent of the sweet bitter drink and set an intention. That night, mine was for everyone to have a good time, be playful and frivolous. I drank the entire cup in one slow big gulp. So delicious, maybe even more than usual.
It wasn't long before the music urged us to put our empty cups away and find a spot on the dance floor. The body awakens, slow moves to start off with. The tempo picks up and before I knew it, I was rolling around the floor like an animal laughing and dancing like a maniac. I felt that unmistakable feeling of a high hitting me and I thought of the mushrooms I brought. But didn’t take. So why was I feeling that high? Ah, maybe just the pure ecstasy of dancing ecstatically in a purple lit room full of people who are doing exactly the same. Yeah. Maybe the music is really good, and that cacao was really good too, and full moon happening soon. No wonder I felt high as a kite.
I gave in and let loose completely. I had been to ecstatic dances before but I don’t remember ever going so hard. I mean I had to take a break because I was making myself feel sick bouncing off the walls. Afterwards, while doing some stretches on the floor I started giggling to myself. I remember thinking somewhere in a far away corner of my mind: what the hell is this all about?
I spotted a cute guy, just because I always fall in love when dancing ecstatically. I tried dancing more intentionally graceful. Which lasted exactly one song and I was back on the floor wiggling my legs in the air while making snow angels with my arms because that was the ultimate best bodily feeling at that moment. All my elegance and leg wiggling must have made an impression, because after the closing circle the guy comes up to me and speaks to me in the fastest Spanish I have ever experienced and I responded: me gusta el suelo, which means I like the floor. He turned around and left and I understood completely.
My awkwardness made me giggle even more and when my friend joined me, he told me he felt so high, I’m like: on life? He’s like: no, I think they spiked the cacao. Just looking at my eyes in the mirror said enough. We were all high as fuck and it was not the music, the dancing, not even the floor I seemed to like so much. It was the cacao! I went up to the organiser and asked what they put in their cacao mixture and she said: mucho mucho amor.
If love is a drug I agree, that cacao contained muchisimo amor. As soon as I got home I sat on the couch and melted into a corner until I believed I was stuck to the piece of furniture with velcro and before I knew it, I was still sitting in that same spot three hours later, wearing my jacket and scarf. I wasn't mad about it. I actually had a lot of fun laughing by myself, sending audio messages left right and center which made me giggle even more. At 3 am I cooked pasta, danced to Whitney Houston and wrote this blog post. The energy didn't stop rushing through me until the early morning. My love appeared and stroked my hair while I talked in a non stop one hour long sentence.
I think my intention manifested in an unexpected way, like they always do.