Intoxicating

I hate sitting in traffic. I hate driving in traffic. But each of the 95 minutes I spent crawling up Route 95 on Friday night during "rush" hour was well worth it for the reward that awaited me. I decided to make a pilgrimage to Topsfield to attend an evening of Danskinetics with live African drumming, followed by a wine tasting.

Danskinetics was invented at Kripalu and it is a combination of yoga and dance that, I find, is very transformative and freeing, providing a natural high. I first tried it at Kripalu a few years ago, was amazed by its power to generate blissful feelings in a very short time, and then attended a few classes in the Boston area. Sadly, this instructor moved to Ohio, leaving behind a great void. The next closest teacher is in Wakefield; I receive notifications of her classes, but they are far enough away to be discouraging, especially since she holds them on Friday evenings, normally when I attend synagogue.

But I was intrigued by this event she was hosting, a combination of live drumming by Mamadou and a chance to sample local wines at Alfalfa Farm. And after a week of moving, unpacking, sorting and organizing, my body was begging to shake itself out. Synagogue could wait. Wanting to arrive on time, I gave myself 90 minutes to travel 29 miles, a ride that Mapquest estimates at taking just 41 minutes. As the traffic stalled and the clock ticked, I began to despair of making it by 6:30pm. Somehow, the logjam broke at around 6:20pm, and I sped to my exit, arriving at the farm just a few minutes late but before the dancing had begun.

The drummers started gently as we warmed up but quickly picked up the tempo, enveloping the group (50+ people, with some men even!) with a rousing and mood altering rhythm. Within minutes my formerly aching and tight limbs and torso were jumping, stomping, wriggling and doing things I had no idea they knew how to do, at a speed that surprised me.

Intoxicating.

The gaz guzzling trek to Topsfield was worth that one dance. And that was just the first 15 minutes. As the temperature in the room climbed my tempo cooled a bit, but not my enthusiasm. In each subsequent set, the music began innocuously enough, a gentle drumming to get us swaying, then shifted into high gear. Some of us hooted and screamed as we jumped around, releasing the week's frustrations.

After such a catharsis, the wine seemed less appealing. I did try several varieties (Merlot, Marechal Foch, Blueberry and Aurore), and helped myself to the accompanying cheeses, but their flavors were not nearly as intense and intoxicating as the dancing.