coping through dance ecstasy

I was telling a friend how therapeutic I find dance in this overwhelming time of grief and desperation and she sent me this article about a European phenomenon in the 13^th and 14^th century called “Tanzwut”.  The article was in German, written by Dr. Anna Bergmann. Literally translated the term Tanzwut would mean dance (Tanz) – anger (Wut) but it would probably be better described as a sort of cathartic dance phenomenon. I suppose, dance hysteria or dance ecstasy could be a suitable translations, too. Here is the English Wikipedia article on the subject but there are quite a few differences to the German one. Either way, lots of info: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dancing_mania

The article describes, how in the after-math of extreme climate change, floods, famine, and finally the plague which killed masses of people at the beginning of the 14^th century, people’s everyday life became overshadowed by grief and desperation. Many lost their children, families, and friends – sometimes all at once. This collective fear and needing to cope with mass deaths had many facets, explains Bergmann. There were violent escalations, wars, and the search for scapegoats, leading to the pogrom of the Jews as well as the beginning of witch hunts. Historians describe the “Tanzwut” as a spontaneous reaction to the floods and the plague. A coping mechanism in order to deal with the fear and grief so many felt overwhelmed with. For days, weeks, and sometimes months these growing dance groups moved in large processions (hundreds of men, women, and children) from village to village, dancing themselves into trance, day and night without food until they collapsed. Some even died due to the extreme nature of this cathartic hysteria.

I’m wondering if such an expression of pain and suffering would even be possible in our times (or, at least, in this country). The entertainment industry, facebook, youTube, the internet in general, and our cell phones are powerful tools in keeping us distracted. Often, I’m inclined to say there it is all too much and we don’t know how to be in the moment anymore – but, in the face of grief, they are all welcome means to the reception of a thought unclaimed by the man I loved and lost.

I was crazy about him. I don’t know why; I shouldn’t have been – but I was.  So many times, during our years together, did I tell myself that I needed to figure out how to let him go and live without him, for he probably would not make it back to normalcy. And now, I get to do just that. 


Busted Heart - by Bishop Allen