Thereâs a version of you that ONLY exists on the dancefloor.
The inspiration for this text came to me while I was watching, almost hypnotically, the live stream of the second weekend of Tomorrowland in Belgium. With every edition, the festival constructs a visual narrative that invites the imagination to soar. This year, the Mainstage theme is "Consciousness," a universe built upon six fundamental emotions: love, joy, anger, sadness, desire, and enchantment.
How can one inhabit the full spectrum of emotions without becoming trapped by any single one of them?
Wilhelm Reich understood that our personal history is inscribed within our bodies; psychological defenses often manifest as physical tensions. Alexander Lowen expanded on this concept, demonstrating that a living body is not a perfect body. It is a body capable of breathing, feeling, and moving.
That is why the dance floor can evoke something difficult to name.
Electronic music requires no words. It permeates the body before it ever reaches the mind. Rhythm regulates breathing and invites movement, allowing, for a few fleeting moments, hypervigilance to give way to pure experience.
Clubbing and festivals, when they are not used merely as forms of anesthesia or escapism, can become rare spaces of true presence. They are places where the body remembers how to play, create, improvise, and simply exist beyond the roles and functions it usually performs.
Celebration is also a psychological act. It is an act of self-permission, of allowing life to flow freely. There is a version of yourself that emerges only on the dance floor. It does not originate there; rather, for a brief time, your defenses step aside to allow an encounter between body, emotion, and desire. Perhaps this is the part of us that never forgot how to dance.
Dulce Tereza De Giorgio Rigotto.