I have danced since birth. Yet, last month, I danced for the first time in nearly four years. And for the first time in a long time, I remembered what it meant to feel fully alive.

As a dancer, I am internationally spoiled. So, in this small town, I wasn’t chasing technical virtuosity or majestic venues. Yet, I was floored by something profound: the possibilities accessible only through connection. Music carried me — its rhythms bypassing my mind and letting my body feel joy I hadn’t realized I missed, amplified by the willingness of strangers to move together.

I have danced since birth

I first danced in the arms of my parents, both uncanny natural dancers despite never having formal training. Then, on my dad’s feet before he made me, a child, his preferred dance partner in front of crowds, in any country, opening any dance floor as if we were the only two people in the room.

Our family life was often uncertain, scary, and even violent. Dancing became my sanctuary. Music slipped under every mental defense. Outmaneuvered every calculation. Calmed every worry. In its rhythms, I had access to something denied in every other part of my life: presence in my body, joy in the moment, freedom from fear.

Over decades, I became a versatile dancer, able to move alone or with anyone, anywhere, to any song. When I left the imploding Soviet Union at fifteen for Dallas, Texas, I landed in a world that felt utterly alien. Even as I moved countries eight times, dancing was my harbor. Adrift elsewhere, I could at least always read the dancef loor: a glance that acknowledged another’s presence, subtle eye contact that invited participation, a rhythm shared with others that said, you belong here right now. Through and within movement, I have navigated trust, social norms, connection, and belonging.

Image credit: Tom Frazier, from a competition in 2007.

Intentionally protecting dance from the fate of every other hobby that had died once it became a task, I only competed a few times despite immersion in some of the world’s best dance scenes. Yet nearly four years had passed since I danced with other dancers when I did something radical in its simplicity: I looked up the local dance socials. Lucky for me, it would shortly be the “first Tuesday of the month,” when both blues and salsa were scheduled. I decided, there and then, not just to go dancing, but to split my time between two events.

I daydreamed about it all Monday

On Tuesday morning, I was hyper-productive, running through tasks faster than usual. I faced the nearly three-hour walk into town and a racing mind: so out of practice, how much worse will I be than I used to be? What if my body simply cannot bear the workout in my 40s? I don’t know the local etiquette! Will these shoes even work, now that I have no appropriate dancing attire?

Amid all that internal dialogue, a surprising mantra emerged: everyone’s life will be better off if I dance. Having danced with a couple thousand people — most of whom would have never asked me to dance had I not asked them — perhaps wouldn’t even be there had I not coaxed them out — that is a known statistical probability. When I dance, the joy of the music has itself an amplifier. A single song shared can shift an entire room.

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Am I the best version of myself when I dance?

When I dance, my mind is off-duty. The teacher and coach in me come through graciously. Most importantly, my inner joy is on display. I will delight moving to any song with any respectful partner. I do not analyze. I do not perform. I respond. Every decision is about musical interpretation and connection, not logic.

Connecting the dots to changemaking

When I dance, I am that “first follower” to my dance partner. Because of the silent power I have learned to command, I am also an inconspicuous conductor of a real-time collective experience for everybody involved. I have the power to validate and inspire the band. To bring out the best in my dance partner. To instigate a broader shared experience if I activate other dancers. To offer multiple permission structures for anybody to give it a go. To create a memory that has the power to shape one’s self-concept and aspirations.

By the time I talked myself down for the n-th time during that walk, I managed to convince myself that even as an imperfect “follow”, I hold immense power to shape the experience of dozens of people that evening — for the better. Which got me to my comfort zone: that it wasn’t about me as much as about the role I could play in an amazing collective thing.

It is hard to call it for what it is — power — because good, non-ego-driven people aren’t supposed to know or act in our power. To dare influence others for fear that we might manipulate. This stigma is a problem for individuals and for communities that hold futures in their hands.

If we embrace our change work, we must embrace our power. Then, when we leverage its toolkit (which I am developing through my current PhD research), we can steer individuals while consensually shaping collective experiences, simply by presence and responsiveness.

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By now, you may be asking: if dancing means so friggin much to her — if she thinks about it this deeply — why don’t she just… dance?

What gets in the way of doing what we love?

You know the answer.

Almost everything — when it should be nothing. Raising a family, commuting, obligations. Non-dancing partners often struggle with the intimacy, trust, or elation involved in what somebody like me views as a three-minute interpretation of the art that is a song — as expressive as spoken word, as intimate as live drawing.

Following vs Leading — in dance and changemaking

Leading and following are often mistaken for dominance and submission, in dance and in work. What a pity!

In my youth, I thought that following meant utter submission. There is a common misconception — on the dance floor and in leadership — that making the call holds more power than following. With years of dancing, leadership, and reflection, I’ve learned that following is the vital, creative core of collaboration. And that a leader cannot truly lead until they follow fully and willingly.

In dance, the lead offers structure and enables risk-taking, but it is the follow who realizes that potential, moment by moment, shaping the experience for both dancers and audience. Together, lead and follow create something neither could do alone — a lesson that resonates beyond the dance floor. I even subscribe to the view that without a follow, a lead is just a lone nut.

A sidebar on somatic self-awareness

Shared movement is a proven tool for regulating stress and enhancing well-being. Emily Nagoski and Amelia Nagoski highlight in Burnout that moving together — even briefly — synchronizes bodies, increases joy, and deepens connection, offering a tangible antidote to fatigue, emotional depletion, and isolation.

Dancing as Impact

That Tuesday, dancing with strangers, I realized that making a positive impact doesn’t always require mastering leadership theories or complex systems. Sometimes, it’s simpler: just a shared rhythm.

Listen. Respond. Care. Imagine. Execute together. Co-create a fleeting work of art that lingers in memory and spirit.

Image credit: Sharo Era from Pixabay

Connection as Action

In many well-meaning circles, connection is treated like a passive, feel-good state — something to “be” rather than to do. That’s another misconception changemakers cannot accept.

In dance, if I am not actively engaged, my lead has nothing to work with — no cues, no feedback, no chance of co-creating something alive. Beautiful movement arises only when partners are fully present, attuned to where the other is, and willing to grant a measure of autonomy.

Think of connection like physics: zero connection is zero gravity—floating, inert, suspended. Friction is connection—the subtle resistance that lets energy transfer, that allows movement to take shape. Acceleration is the product of that connection. Every lift, turn, improvisation, or ensemble movement relies on it. Without it, we drift. With it, we propel each other forward.

In work, in leadership, and in change-making, connection functions the same way.

Rather than some luxury or a soft indulgence, connection is the active condition that transforms intention into action, potential into progress, and ideas into momentum. To be “connected” is not to rest — it is to participate, to be active, to be felt and to leave your mark in return.

I left that evening reminded: joy and connection are not rare metals; they are boundless and renewable resources accessible through any human moment, if only we allow ourselves to be moved, even for a few minutes. Before our mind ever catches on, movement can make us remember what we did not know we forgot. Even small gestures of trust, responsiveness, and playfulness ripple far beyond their moment.

So, I ask you: care to dance?

Want to be a better dancer (literally)?

* Imagine that the song plays between your shoulder blades

Not in your head, legs, chest, or arms. Actively hold it in the middle of your back, letting it ripple through your body and inform every movement. You will know if you did this because you will be a bit sore the next couple of days!

* Lead or follow, choose one and embrace its power

As a lead, turn your follow’s missteps into opportunities — just like in leadership, unintended outcomes can spell innovation. As a follow, hold your action until you’ve received a lead. Intentionally delay your response by a fraction of a second. It will appear perfectly synchronized while giving you time to respond to your partner’s direction.

My questions for you:

* When have you felt fully seen or alive through shared movement or activity?

* Think about a moment in a transformational movement when connection felt “zero gravity” vs. full acceleration—what made the difference?

* How could you apply the lead/follow insight in your work or relationships?

* What, if any, room have you made for physical movement in your changemaking?

* If we have danced together, what was that like for you? I am not fishing for compliments —I want honest reflection because if I’m full of sh**, I’d like to know!

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