I’ve just been to a blues dance festival and I feel tired but elated.
As a self-employed maker, I spend a lot of time by myself in my studio, so it’s important for my other interests to bring a sense of community into my life. I started going to dance classes about six years ago and I’ve loved it ever since. Moving my body, connecting to music and spending time with people is one of the greatest joys in my life, and the dance community is so full of open-minded, free-spirited people. I feel very grateful to have been welcomed into it.
I was initially drawn to blues because of its soulful, slower rhythm. I dance because of how it makes me feel, and the emphasis on connection, listening and really tuning into the music rather than the performative aspects of dance feels like exactly what I need. It’s one of the places where I get to feel properly alive.
If I’m honest, I wasn’t sure what to write about for this blog post. So I went to the dance festival, spent a weekend out in the world, surrounded by people and feeling joyful, and hoped that something would spark.
It did.
What blues dancing has taught me
During the workshops there was a lot of emphasis on doing less while dancing. Slowing down. Listening to the music. Feeling the moments of stillness rather than always trying to fill them with movement.
I was very here for this.
After such a long, hot and intense summer, it felt timely. There has been so much energy in the last few months: growing, making, harvesting, working and trying to keep up with everything that comes with being self-employed. I think I needed to be reminded that not every moment needs to be filled with doing.
Finding the rhythm of the seasons
And actually, this is something I recognise in foraging too.
When I’m out looking for plants and flowers, I have to pay attention. You notice what is growing around you, what has changed since your last walk, what is ready to gather and what you need to leave behind. It asks you to look a little more closely at the world around you.
There’s something similar about blues dancing. You listen to the person you’re dancing with. You listen to the music. You respond rather than rushing ahead. Sometimes the most enjoyable part is what happens in the space between movements.
It feels like a useful lesson to be carrying with me as we reach the autumn equinox.
The autumn equinox
The equinox is one of those points in the year that naturally draws your attention to balance. Around 23 September, day and night are roughly equal in length before the balance begins to tip towards longer nights and shorter days in the Northern Hemisphere.
I like having these markers in the year. Not because I think we need to completely change our lives every time the calendar turns, but because they give us a chance to notice where we are.
What has the last few months brought you? What has given you energy? What has taken more than it gave back? And as the evenings draw in, what do you want to make a little more room for?
For me, community is definitely one of those things.
Gathering together
I’ve been reminded of that again through dancing, but it’s also a big part of why I love running jewellery-making workshops. There’s something lovely about getting a group of people around a table, giving everyone some materials to play with and watching completely different ideas emerge.
This summer I also had the chance to run my first workshop in collaboration with Birmingham Museums, which was such a lovely experience. And I’m doing it again this autumn at the Craft and Culture Café on 17 October.
For this workshop, we’ll be making jewellery inspired by the season, using my Autumn Leaves and Halloween charms. I’ve also just updated my Autumn Leaves collection.
You can book your place here.
Autumn leaves
I love collecting leaves in autumn and bringing them indoors to display around my tiny home. It’s one of my favourite, completely free, things to do with my niece and nephew, and one of the reasons I look forward to the cooler, darker half of the year.
The new Autumn Leaves collection features eight of my favourite British leaves: Elder, Linden, Hawthorn, Hazel, Oak, Beech, Field Maple and Horse Chestnut.
I’ve always loved the idea of taking something that I notice and collect from the natural world and turning it into something I can keep with me. The necklace and bracelet are a little reminder of that seasonal connection, even when I’m back at my desk surrounded by tools, materials and orders.
And perhaps that’s another thing I’ve taken from this weekend.
What else is worth treasuring?
As my confidence in dancing has increased, I’ve felt more drawn to trying out the leading roles in the dances. Because the gender split still tends to be more men leading and women following, this meant I got to have more dances with women this weekend.
It felt intuitive, gentle and slower.
There was something really lovely about the sensitivity and attentiveness of those dances, and it reminded me how important it is to gather together with the women in my life. There is a particular kind of supportive, intuitive energy that can come from being together, making things together, moving together or simply spending time in each other’s company.
I think we all need different kinds of connection at different times in our lives, and this weekend reminded me how much I need mine.
Carrying the joy into the darker months
I’ve come home feeling like I’ve gathered up a little store of joy and energy to carry with me into the darker months.
And I think I’ve also been reminded that I need to keep making space for the things that make me feel alive.
This is slightly counterintuitive for me because, although the natural world is beginning to turn inwards, the next few months are actually going to be some of the busiest of the year for me. As a small business, the retail calendar means that while I’m craving slower days, I’m also making, preparing for Christmas, battling the algorithm and heading out to cold markets to try to get my handmade jewellery in front of people.
So I’m trying to hold both things at once.
I can’t opt out of the busy season, but I can be more intentional about the things that keep me connected to myself and to other people.
For me, that might mean getting back on the dance floor. Going for a walk and seeing what is growing. Collecting a few leaves. Making something with my hands. Spending time with people who make me feel alive.
As the nights begin to draw in, perhaps we don’t need to fill every bit of space with more doing. There is such value in listening a little more closely to what we need, and making sure there is still room for the things that bring us joy.
