When I am glowing after a sweaty night of Contra dancing in a hall cramped with bodies, it’s as much the peace that follows the exertion as it is specifically the dance, the music or the communion with others.
By pushing myself physically, it releases the clamp on my own judgment of myself. For a brief, few minutes I’ve reached a quiet and accepting place. I am kind to myself and grateful for the world around me.
It’s the runner’s high, the yogi’s open heart, the hiker’s bliss, and the dancer’s glow. It can be called many things and reached in many ways.
I call it welcome.