Ecstatic Dance came to me not as a performance, not as a technique, but as a lifeline. It is a journey of movement, music, and inner exploration—a practice that blends ancient ritual with modern consciousness work, offering both personal healing and collective joy.
It is not bound by particular set patterns or rigid choreography. Some call it free-form dancing. For me, it is more than that—it is a way to joy, connection, and self-discovery.
I call my path Ecstatic Dancie Inner National, Joy Rhythm. To become a “Dancie” is to step into a rhythm that is both personal and universal. My style is not about the moves—it is about the intention. That intention is what people feel, even when they cannot name it. Acceptance. Acknowledgement. Connection. Joy. These are the currents that flow through my dance, and they are contagious.
The roots of this rhythm go back to 2016, when illness shadowed my life. I hid it well, or so I thought. Friends and co-workers noticed I wasn’t showing up, but I brushed it off as a collective joke. Then came the moment that changed everything.
I was golfing, proud of a solid swing on the third hole. The next thing I knew, I was in my car, mid-turn at an intersection. My last memory was on the green. Shock washed over me—I realized I had blacked out. My boss and friends had not been joking. I was slipping in and out of awareness without knowing it.
Fear pushed me into action. I resigned from my job, began basic MMS protocols, and moved in with my mother to recover. Within two weeks, the blackouts ceased, though fog and forgetfulness lingered heavily. Autism-like traits surfaced more pronounced, and comprehension was extremely difficult. Still, I pressed forward, determined to heal.
On my way north to Sequim, Washington, I stopped to see my daughter Emerald. She introduced me to ecstatic dance in Oakland and San Francisco. She captivated me, taking me from mainstream gatherings to professional dancer circles. My favorite was the Wednesday night dance in Oakland.
Something shifted. I began to weave my rhythm into every dance I entered. After a while, people asked me to teach them how to dance like me. At first, I laughed—I didn’t know how to teach. But it was clear I was doing something different. It changed the whole room’s character. It was lighter, more fun, and wilder.
So I studied myself. I reflected, experimented, and distilled my practice into four steps. That is how Ecstatic Dancie Inner National, Joy Rhythm, was born. It is not choreography. It is not performance. It is an intention embodied and shared.
This dance is joy medicine. It is a way of being. It is the rhythm of life itself.
By Paris Humble JimhumbleAudio.com, for reference to MMS