After experiencing the most extraordinary few weeks dancing in awe-inspiring settings, international circle dance teacher Judy King found herself probing the question of the sacred in dance. Here is her article on dancing in cathedrals where, over the centuries, hearts have been lifted in prayer … and where focus, intent, openness, willingness, beauty, grace, and inspiration can flow into the profound.  

Text © Judy King; all photographs © Judy King

Allow me, if you will, to set the scene for this question popping into my mind. I was driving home in the dark and the rain after attending the funeral of a very special man, a good friend, both a priest and a poet.  

As soon as I walked into the church (which is a rare occurrence for me unless I am to dance in it!) there was something palpable about the atmosphere - yet what was it? 

Well over a hundred people had come from far and wide to say their goodbyes. The feeling was overwhelmingly that of love, of respect, of intent. As the service progressed, we heard about the different aspects of his life. I listened to the beautifully crafted words delivered so lovingly by his most beloved family and friends and I felt myself being drawn further and further into his world of prayer and hymns. As I stood up at one point to sing a hymn, the words, “this is sacred” came into my head and my body. The words of the prayers didn’t touch me so much, it was the feeling, the energy, the intent (yes, I know I’ve already used this word.) The ritual of the service and the ceremony was at once comforting. It all had a profound effect on me.

Now, would this have had the same effect if I hadn’t had the most extraordinary few weeks dancing in some extraordinary places? Who knows, but certainly, as they say, this was “a perfect storm”.

Dancing with the earth above our heads

The start of my ‘journey’ to the above question began in Wells Cathedral where we had been invited to dance under Gaia . . .

Gaia is a touring artwork by UK artist Luke Jerram. Measuring seven metres in diameter and created from 120dpi detailed NASA imagery of the Earth’s surface, the artwork provides the opportunity to see our planet floating in three dimensions. The installation aims to create a sense of the Overview Effect. Common features of the experience for astronauts are a feeling of awe for the planet; a profound understanding of the interconnection of all life and a renewed sense of responsibility for taking care of the environment.

When I first walked into the Cathedral before starting dancing, I gasped aloud. This truly was a creation of beauty and was unlike anything else I had ever seen. 

And so we were to dance under this extraordinary structure and it became the most profound experience in all of my years of dancing.  I felt as though I had touched something that I hadn’t before: yet what was it?

A large part, of course, was the magnificence of the setting. The space, the light, the beauty of the structure, the Scissor Arches, the sense of awe and wonder. How many footsteps had trodden on those flagstones? How many people over the centuries had lifted their hearts in prayer?  

How many people had ever danced on the earth with the earth above their heads at the same time?

I come back to intent: every single dancer arrived to learn the dances with an intent: we were there to dance for the earth and we knew that this was going to be special. We worked together as one from step one; we moved in unison, we felt as one. 

Raising my arms, bending my knee, reaching out to others, returning deep into myself, expressing whooping delight and profound sadness - handing myself over to something greater, wider, more expansive (yet singular) than ever before.  

As one participant later said: “A moment in time to cherish and keep through our troubled world.

We all gelled so harmoniously too. There was a great love between us all.”

Listen to Judy talk about the joys and benefits of circle dancing, absorbing experiences, and Mandy de Winter.

Moving from the ‘I’ to the ‘you’ to the ‘we’

And then the following weekend I travelled north to dance my suite ‘Brother Sun, Sister Moon’ in Hexham. So where was the sacred in this experience? To be honest, the four days of teaching the dances in the majestic Great Hall at Hexham Abbey was hard work. We had to work hard together to learn the steps, the subtleties, the nuances of each dance. We had to spend time to move from the ‘I’ to the ‘you’ before we were finally able to settle into the ‘we’. This time the group harmonising and sense of oneness developed more slowly, grew in depth more gradually until each of us began to feel a sense of confidence in ourselves and each other. Until finally there was the beginning of a sense of being able to let go and trust - in what? Ourselves, each other, me as the teacher and leader of what was to become a dance ritual in a holy place, dare I even say - God?                       

So with our nerves jangling we moved into the beauty that is Hexham Abbey to dance at the Crossing. There were people moving about, children running, a chattering, a bustle. It felt a little chaotic, noisy - not as we had imagined it to be.  And then the first notes of the music were heard. For the dancers everything else fell away - there was only us and each other and our individual connection - to what? Some would say the steps, others the place, others each other, others still the music. I felt a deep connection to the theme and felt the presence of something more ancient - was that St Francis of Assisi, pilgrims on a quest, a greater awareness of my own still centre? What was it?

The Abbey fell silent as we danced: tourists moved around us with reverence as they felt that they were witnessing something special; people who came to watch did so with respect - tears flowed.

We danced with full presence, with our hearts and souls, with our everything. This suite ends with a celebration - Gracias a la Vida - we give thanks to life! So, unusually, we end outwards, hearts uplifted and we laugh and clap and indeed, we celebrate life. No quiet, inward silence and yet at the end one of the vergers came and thanked us “for bringing the sacred back into the building”. 

A dancer who attended both these weekends said; “Two extraordinary weekends of dance. Each one very special. Each with their own, different energy. The common factor was the focus and commitment of each group.”

Dancing for ‘Peace and Reconcilation’

So from there the circle moved to London where we were to dance for ‘Peace and Reconciliation’. This time in three extraordinary venues. We began in St Mark’s Church in Teddington.  

Did learning the dances in a place regularly used for worship affect our sense of the sacred? Did being held in that place by a dancing ordained woman priest add to our sense of sacred? 

Having danced together for four days, we moved into the awe-inspiring setting that is St Paul’s Cathedral to dance five of the dances as part of the Eucharist.

To even stand under the Dome and on this floor is an incredible experience. To take hands and stand in unity is spine tingling; to move on it - is divine.

When we had finished the dances, the priest thanked us for our presence, our grace, our vitality and for showing us another way to pray using movement and gesture. Did we touch something in him in the same way that the experience of dancing in ‘his’ space touched us?

 One of the participants said afterwards, ”One of the most profound dance experiences in my life!” But why???

Did we touch something in this space that we don’t touch elsewhere when we dance? Did something touch us deeper?

What was it? What could it be?

I don’t believe that it is any one thing, I believe it is a culmination of many factors. To begin with, I think we are required to be open - to have an open heart - to be prepared to receive different viewpoints, different ideas and we have to be prepared to challenge ourselves and to step outside our comfort zones.  

Then when the service began in St Paul’s and the vergers led the presiding priests to the altar one clear thought came to my mind: “I love this ritual”.  At its most mundane, it ‘sets the scene’; it creates the space and the possibility for magic to happen, for the sacred to enter. It is grounded in hundreds of years of faith. To be invited to be part of that living ritual was both an honour and a privilege. How can it not fail to touch me deeply?

Afterwards, members of the congregation came to us and said how moved they were, that they had witnessed beauty and that they had been moved to tears. One of our group said, ”I particularly loved being part of the service in St Paul's which surprised me a bit as I am not religious but it felt we could really get the message across.”

Perhaps that message was a two-way process?  I know we all felt different dancing there: apart from the fact of being just a small cog in the bigger wheel of the service, I personally felt a sense of awe and wonder in that place: that what I was doing was my personal form of prayer, that I had permission to go deeper; that my body and my spirit felt as one - is that not a sense of sacred?

Pulling scattered energy into a cohesive shape

And then the next day we took the whole suite of dances into King’s College Chapel, London. 

We arrived as individuals from our separate accommodations across the city. We moved into the chapel where people gasped as they entered. When we began to mark our dances in the space, we became a disparate group of individuals again: our focus was scattered, our concentration poor. What had happened?

Was this one step too far after the incredible experience of the evening before? Were we being greedy in having one more bite at our beautiful apple?

And so we stopped trying and stood together quietly in a circle to gather our thoughts and pull the scattered energy into a cohesive shape again.

The opening notes filled the room and as one we stepped into the dance together; drawing deeper and deeper into ourselves and out to each other at the same time. Our hearts opened and we danced for each other.                                       

A letting go of ‘I’, an awareness of ‘you’, a feeling of ‘we’, focus, intent, openness, willingness, beauty, grace, inspiration, a sense of being part of something bigger … 

I don’t know what and where the sacred in dance is - but I do know that I touched something profoundly deep and spiritual recently.      

About Judy, including her contact details

Judy King is a former Physical Education teacher who’s been teaching circle dancing full time for 35 years. Based in the UK, she travels extensively to teach.

Contact details:

Website: https://www.judyking.co.uk/?fbclid=IwAR1T3Eq2vPjhZxjU7uS1ut9kXxfe99vC6LC8e5Z_z0UQH96-U30FkYbtH0s

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