we should be dancing.

we used to have revolutionary music.

we used to dance to revolutionary music.

we used to dance in the midst of revolution.

we used to dance as revolution.

a question that’s been plaguing me lately is whether we have sleepwalked our way to regarding fun as frivolous, unfulfilling, and in need of deprioritization during times of collective struggle vs. using it as a well to pour into that sustains us and pour from to encourage the community around us.

is fun important anymore?

i’m making assumptions as to how i think most people would respond to this question, but i don’t think i’m going too far to assume capitalism would be pleased by the responses. we appear to be giving most, if not all, of ourselves to work rather than to simply being – even if it’s by necessity, it’s still happening – and almost none of ourselves to consistently having a good time. i’m not arguing one should be prioritized over the other, but i do think we need something more than utility, and particularly utility-based self-worth, to make us feel good. all the way down to your bones good.

looking at past movements, it can be easy to believe fighting for foundational civil rights required singular focus with no distractions, but those were regular degular people just like us. figuring out how to show up for their communities and how to make their present lives worth living at the same time. fighting, but also laughing and cooking and having sex and dancing. enjoying their lives and seeking pleasure in the midst of the madness.

i think more than we know it, we’ve placed our utility as the central tenet of our fight, and i think it’s why we’re so overwhelmed and exhausted. we’re working more and more. we’re having less sex. we’re having fewer in-person interactions. we largely regard dancing as something that used to be more fun, used to be better, used to be what we loved vs. something we can actively try to reclaim or make new and different and meaningful for us today. we’ve pushed fun into a dark corner it’s now nearly impossible to get to. and even when we get to it, we’re looking down on fun for costing too much money or requiring us to push past mental hurdles or asking us to be interested in fun at all. capitalism is already wringing us out AND it’s telling us to fight for it to keep wringing us out — for our utility, for our worth as the sum of our achievements (education, jobs, homes). where’s the fight for the good stuff? where’s the appetite to fight for the good stuff? to me, it feels like there’s little left of it for us to give to ourselves. there’s little fueling us to keep going, or for most people, to get started in the first place.

how hard are you fighting for your own pleasure? for your own fun?

do you feel equipped to be a source of joy for yourself? for others?

how do you replenish this joy in the midst of challenges? do you replenish or even possess this joy?

how are you fighting to keep your life fun? are you?

along with your rage and disillusionment, what is the positive sustenance you’re using to get through these difficult times?

fun and pleasure are central to how i approach and live my life. a quote i find myself revisiting comes from adrienne maree brown’s 2019 book “pleasure activism: the politics of feeling good”:

“pleasure is the point. feeling good is not frivolous, it is freedom.”

to me, it is THE point. not consumption. FEELING GOOD. joy. euphoria. in ways big and small. as a first-generation caribbean-american who has traveling back to grenada for carnival as her top annual priority, i think of joy as both resistance and liberation in a very concrete way. playing mas, DANCING, is how i both remind myself of the struggles of the past and and equip myself with the euphoria and good feelings i need to hold onto it as i participate and play my part in the challenging struggles of the present. i use it as a tool alongside my discipline and focus and vulnerability. i use it as reprieve. it’s the gift i give to myself and allow myself to have so i can freely give to others.

we should be dancing.

i get that we’re all tired, but we should be dancing. in spite of being tired. BECAUSE we’re tired. i’m always dancing with this context in mind – liberation and resistance. a way for me to temporarily disengage AND stay connected. to get the reprieve AND the reminder of who and what i’m fighting for. 

i won’t lie – seeing the effects of diminished curiosity, stamina, or commitment to infusing life with joy and pleasure or in believing it's at all relevant to the social justice work we so desperately need to be engaged with today is disheartening, but i’m not discouraged. we need that stamina back. we need to care about getting it back. to withstand the rage and the incessant barrage of lies we’re already seeing and hearing, we need to pick our energy levels up. we need sources from which we can continue to draw inspiration and laughter and hope and FUN. nearly everyone being overwhelmed to the point of not being able to fight for their own joy or even find value in that fight ANDDDDD being overwhelmed to the point of not being able to find a way to participate in the broader fight beyond “staying informed” (aka doom-scrolling and ruminating) is untenable. we need to put thriving and having a good time back on the list of priorities. people who are thriving have what they need to survive and have what they need to be curious and imagine more for themselves and others. these are not mutually exclusive fights. we can do both.

we can be overwhelmed and still seek joy.

we can be disillusioned and still seek joy.

we can rage and still seek joy.

we have to.

i’ll leave you with a recent quote from natasha nyanin – a writer, creative, and traveler whose joie de vivre i find particularly inspiring: “dance will always remind me of what we can be at our best, even when we aren’t feeling our best.”

we should be dancing.