Connecting With Others Through The Joy of Movement

This December, I read The Joy of Movement: How Exercise Helps Us Find Happiness, Hope, Connection, and Courage by Kelly McGonigal. I had received an advanced copy of the book because McGonigal had quoted my essay on the deadlift in “Chapter Five: Overcoming Obstacles.” (Seeing my name is this book is very exciting!) I have written about another of McGonigal’s books, The Upside of Stress, on this blog, and I am a fan of her work. She is a skillful storyteller and science writer, which means that she can demystify and normalize those things that often make us feel weird or different by reminding us they actually just part of the human condition. Without a doubt, her writing inspires people to live more fully — and, as her new book title suggests, joyfully.

When I learned there would be a ticketed book party here in New York City, I immediately knew that I had to attend. “The Joy of Movement Book Launch and Workout” was billed as part taping of a podcast, part movement class, and part dance party. It was being hosted at the JCC which I had never been to, but heard great things about. On the surface, how the event was going to work made little sense, but having read the book, this conglomeration thematically made sense. McGonigal dedicated her book “to all the movement instructors who have inspired me and to all those who have moved with me in classes over the years, thank you for sharing the joy.” Yes, she was going to talk about her book but her book is about things like the endorphin rush, collective joy, and we-agency, induced by synchrony among a group that moves together. Why just talk about it when we can experience it?

However, by the time the event rolled around, my initial excitement had dimmed significantly. A part of me was likely dreading it all along, and that part had gotten louder. I was going to an event that I did not quite understand; it was going to be social in nature; and I was going alone. My “new kid” nerves were getting the best of me.

Don’t get me wrong. I love a good dance party, and clearly I like movement. But I have never been comfortable dancing alone on a public dance floor. Never. I can only dance “like nobody is watching” if (a) nobody is watching, or (b) at least one person who knows me is watching. At this dance party, neither of these would be true. So…