It starts with the head roll. Sliding, like my joints are unhinged. Oil, drip, glide, repeat, repeat. I climb with the music; the pulse is in me. My heart is dancing and I can’t feel the soles of my feet.

“I like to pretend I’m making the music, if that makes sense.” Our fingers are tapping imaginary drums, we’re waving our hands like we are drawing, milking the music from the air and I think: don’t we all?¬†We see beautiful things and think: I wish I created this. I wish I made this. Where can I praise the creator? The one who made this possible. I thank God for ears that spin waves into a tapestry of colour.

We’re staring up at the rippling lights, as if they’re breaking the surface of the sea we’re immersed in. And our arms are a colony of weeds pulled in the current, magnetic. I’m drowning- in the best way. It’s good to drown in something you love, to escape your petty self, your petty worries. How people see you, whether or not they like you, it all doesn’t matter in an atmosphere of¬†appreciation and you’re with people you want to smile with. Ah, if only others could feel what you’re feeling. But it’s incredible because they do. We are all of one mind, so similar in place. Synchronised, sharing, feeding.

We get a glimpse of heaven. A pathetic imitation by comparison but such an intensity of high in this life. A congregation of people who are in the midst of loving. The joy of loving.

I’d like to dance to this.