First Person

During the pandemic I missed the dance-induced sweat that happens in rooms lit blue and red or fields that turn into Meccas for music devotees who pilgrim from the city for days of play. Two-stepping, hips-moving and synchronised hands raised above heads. The DJ is our conductor – DJ to dancer; dancer to DJ. All feeling safe and free.

One day, whilst strolling past a building the vents were puffing out a very specific smell… a mix of booze, sweat and lavs. It was an essence I knew all too well without hearing a single sound – the club was open! As a DJ, but also as someone who is fascinated by wellbeing and health, I missed the club as a space that cultivates joy and it got me thinking: could the club be prescribed to support brain health?

The title is a little salacious, so let’s start by defining mental health which I want to preface as different from mental illness. Mental health is something we all have; it’s how we think, feel and carry ourselves. It’s about our emotional and social wellbeing. It ebbs and flows. Fluctuating between the highest joys and states of awe to feeling low and stagnant. Sometimes we buzz somewhere in between. When thinking about this I see this as no simple fix for poor mental health, but rather something that could help keep wellbeing bouncing in a healthy state.

Communal listening is intuitive and dates back millennia. The club is just a different environment for the same experience, except the stakes are high because we don’t know the intentions of the people around us. On a biological level we have to suss this out, and what happens when we go from potentially unsafe to safe is where things get interesting. We’re taking in signals of whether these are our kinds of people? Our brain is figuring out whether this collective dons their clothes like us, or whether we’re connected by age, race or sexuality? The first thing clubs give us is a sense of community. And when that sense of community is established our ability to tap into the benefits of these dimly lit spaces, with powerful sound systems opens up.

At times the club offers us physical intimacy, whether it’s as simple as the dewy arm of our fellow dancer as they brush past us or a tender hug from a lover, when consensual it’s great for reducing stress levels. But something less noticeable that the club gives us is mental intimacy – where we feel mentally stimulated by what’s around us and we subconsciously mirror each other because we feel empathy. We clap together and our heart rates quite literally sync in these environments. Nightclubs offer us quick moments of intimacy with groups wider than our own.

After establishing safety our parasympathetic nervous system kicks in, our heart rates and breathing slows down. The darkness of these spaces allows us to lose our inhibitions and feel more confident, so as we’re racking up our 25,000 steps dancing, our body is releasing dopamine and endorphins, and our ability to become more compassionate for our fellow dancers increases. The darkness can help boost self-esteem – even if it is just for a moment.

Finally, another reason an otherwise plain room with a bar becomes more exciting when lit with colourful lights, and pumping music is because of the discovery that happens. The dancefloor allows us to learn about ourselves. We lose track of time and the focus zooms into the sensation in our body. Music sounds louder, and colours appear brighter as the senses become restricted. It’s a moment to connect with how we physically feel in our body, which isn’t often encouraged. But beyond that we discover friendships and new music.

So although the club may appear to be a simple space, in healthy doses, it could serve as a restorative sanctuary in amongst the woes of adulthood.12_DISCO_POGO