Dansence™ – Dance & Presence by Sanna Myllylä

In the dance studio, much more happens than learning movements or steps.
There are moments of realization — small discoveries that quietly change something inside.

Someone suddenly finds a muscle they didn’t even know existed.
Another notices that a move that once felt impossible now flows with ease.
And someone smiles, realizing that their shoulders no longer ache and their hip pain is gone.

These are the moments that make teaching so meaningful.

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The joy of dance and a warm atmosphere

Many students describe the atmosphere of the classes with one word: joy.
“Good group spirit,” “the joy of dancing and like-minded people,” “a relaxed and cheerful teacher” — these words appear again and again in feedback forms.

Dancing together creates a special kind of connection.
Each person walks into the class carrying their own worries, but through music and movement, those worries begin to dissolve.
Before long, laughter fills the room, and for a moment, the outside world disappears.

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Small group, big learning

Many students appreciate the intimacy of small groups:
“A lovely teacher who comes to guide each student personally.”
When every dancer is truly seen, learning happens gently and safely.

One student wrote:

“The movements are safe to do – my sore hip doesn’t hurt in this teacher’s classes.”

That is the best kind of feedback I could ever receive.

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Dance heals the whole body — and the mind

“Oriental dance is excellent exercise for every part of the body,” one student wrote.
And it’s true.
Belly dance activates the deep muscles, develops body control, and increases flexibility.
But just as important is what happens inside — the moment when you accept your body as it is and rediscover joy through movement.

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With gratitude

I have had the privilege of teaching wonderful people who come to class with open hearts and curiosity.
Their realizations, courage, and laughter fill the studio with light.

And when someone says,

“The best teacher in the area,”
it touches me deeply.

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✨ In the end:
Dance is more than movement.
It’s a journey into the body, a moment of connection with others, and an opportunity to discover something new within yourself — one step at a time.

For many, meditation means sitting still and following the breath. But what if stillness could be found through movement?

In the soft, flowing motions of belly dance, something happens naturally — the mind begins to quiet. When attention shifts to breath and bodily rhythm, the stream of thoughts slows down, and calm begins to rise.

Movement that has always been within us

The original purpose of dance was to express joy. A small child dances out of pure delight, because the body naturally responds to the rhythm of life.
Rhythm is within all of us — in the breath, the heartbeat, and the rhythm of our steps. When movement and breath unite, we return to something ancient, something we have always been.

Breath and movement – a connection to the inner rhythm

When I move and breathe consciously, sensing my body from within, there is something powerful about it. I feel connected to my higher self — the part of me that sees more clearly and feels more deeply.

The physical brain is a wonderful instrument for observation, yet its constant chatter can distract from what truly matters.
When I have only breath and movement, everything feels lighter. Worried thoughts fall away, and something fresh arises — clarity, joy, and inspiration.

Science meets sensation

Scientific studies have shown that dance and movement meditation can influence the mind and brain in multiple ways.

Regular dancing reduces the stress hormone cortisol and increases the production of feel-good hormones (Koch et al., 2019). At the same time, it strengthens body awareness — the ability to recognize the body’s signals and calm the mind through movement.

Brain-imaging research has also found that mindful movement practices such as yoga and qigong activate similar brain areas as seated meditation, especially those linked to presence and emotional regulation (Farb et al., 2012; Tang et al., 2015).

In addition, dance supports neuroplasticity — the brain’s capacity to form new neural connections and adapt to change. Rehfeld et al. (2018) discovered that people who practiced dance regularly maintained better memory and coordination than those engaging in traditional forms of exercise.

All this confirms what many dancers already know from experience: through movement, the mind calms, the body strengthens, and awareness deepens.

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✨ In the end:
Meditation doesn’t always require silence. Sometimes stillness is found in the very heart of movement — where rhythm breathes within you.

Many people wonder before joining a dance class, “Do I have the right kind of body for this?”
When it comes to belly dance, the answer is simple: yes, you do.

This dance doesn’t require a specific body type, age, or flexibility. On the contrary – belly dance strengthens and beautifies every body in its own unique way.

A dance that celebrates diversity

Although Middle Eastern cultures can appear conservative on the surface, belly dance was born in women’s circles, where the body was not hidden but seen as natural and beautiful.
That’s why everyone can look radiant while dancing – not because the body is perfect, but because it moves in its own authentic way.

Strong core and better posture

In belly dance, movement begins from within. Deep abdominal muscles, the back, glutes, and pelvic floor are activated in almost every motion.
Many students are surprised by how quickly their posture improves and lower back pain disappears.
When the body becomes stronger from the inside, it also looks more confident on the outside.

At the last class, several students shared that since they started belly dance last year, they haven’t had shoulder or lower back pain all winter. That says a lot about how effectively this dance heals the body – gently, yet surely.

A kinder way to see your body

Practicing belly dance is a gentle journey of getting to know your own body.
The movements are not about hiding imperfections but about curiosity: How does this movement feel? How does my body respond to the music?
This accepting relationship with the body often extends beyond the dance studio – into how we dress, how we carry ourselves, and how we see our reflection in the mirror.

A cultural perspective

In Egypt, belly dance has always been a part of life – at weddings, celebrations, and in homes. It hasn’t been only a performance art, but a form of expression where every movement is unique.
Perhaps that’s why Egyptian dancers radiate such confidence: they don’t try to look like anyone else.

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✨ In the end:
Belly dance suits you even if you don’t feel like a “dancer.” Every body can move beautifully when given the chance.
The dance doesn’t change your body into something else – it helps you see it in a new light.

Stress has become a natural part of modern life, but its effects should not be underestimated. Chronic stress doesn’t only tire the body and mind – it also weakens our ability to focus and make decisions. In other words, stress makes us temporarily “less smart.” Luckily, there is a way to combine movement, music, and joy: dance.

Music shifts the focus away from worries

As soon as the music starts, our attention is naturally drawn to its rhythm and atmosphere. Studies show that music reduces stress hormones such as cortisol and increases the release of feel-good hormones. Simply listening to music can already ease tension – but when combined with movement, the effect multiplies.

Dance forces you into the present moment

Dance doesn’t allow you to dwell on your to-do list or replay stressful thoughts. To succeed in the movement, you must focus on what your body is doing right now. This naturally brings the mind into the present moment – just like meditation. No wonder dance and stress relief go hand in hand.

Endorphins and the joy of movement

All physical activity releases endorphins, which boost mood and create a sense of well-being. In dance, this effect is combined with the flow state that music and movement can create: a moment when time disappears and you feel one with the motion. This makes dance one of the most powerful ways to lift your mood.

Opposite movements activate the brain

Research has shown that dance stimulates the brain in unique ways. When you perform opposite movements – for example, one arm rising while the hips move in the opposite direction – your brain is forced to form new neural connections. This strengthens memory, focus, and flexible thinking. While stress can shut the brain down, dance brings it back to life.

The link between intelligence and dance

In Egypt, there is a saying: if a girl is a good dancer, she is also intelligent. This observation is rooted in the fact that dance develops coordination, memory, rhythm, and the ability to manage several things at once. All of these skills are connected to brain flexibility and intelligence – the very abilities stress tends to diminish.

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✨ Finally:
Dance doesn’t require special equipment or preparation. All you need is yourself, music, and a moment of time. It may be the beginning of a journey that transforms the way you relate to yourself – and to stress.

When a teacher starts teaching a new choreography, they rarely show the entire dance right away. For most of us, it would be too much at once. Instead, we learn in small sections, repeat them, and gradually put the pieces together.

How I approach it

When I study another choreographer’s work, I start by listening to the rhythm. Is it slow–quick–quick, or something else? Then I watch the feet: where is the weight, which foot begins? After that I focus on the torso, connecting it to the steps. Only at the end do I add the arms.

If the music touches me, I often hum along. It keeps the rhythm alive in my body and makes remembering easier.

At festivals, choreographies are sometimes taught at lightning speed. That can be stressful — and stressed brains don’t learn well. My trick? I smile. When I smile, my body believes everything is fine, and my mind relaxes. I may not suddenly learn faster, but at least I don’t slow myself down further.

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Before smartphones

In the days before smartphones, we wrote choreographies down during breaks as best as we remembered. I used words; others drew stick figures dancing across the page. Strangely enough, it worked. The choreography stayed in memory more easily.

Today, of course, we can just record everything on video. It’s convenient, but I find it also makes me a little lazy. When I know I can always watch later, I don’t concentrate as deeply in the moment.

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How choreographies have changed

Choreographies themselves have evolved. Dancers today are so skilled that choreographers challenge them with faster tempos, fewer repetitions, and twice as many movements as before. Egyptian choreographers are meeting this demand — which means focus and memory are more important than ever.

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Focus on your own journey

Most importantly, focus on yourself. If someone in front of you makes mistakes, let it go. Don’t compare.

And when you practice, do the movements fully, not just marking them lightly. Big, intentional movements create stronger muscle memory. Each repetition plants the choreography deeper into your body — until one day it flows naturally, without effort.

Many dancers ask me: “How can I learn choreography more quickly?”
One of the most important answers is simple: a strong foundation makes everything easier.

Think of a choreography like decorating a house. The decorations are beautiful, but they won’t hold if the walls and foundation aren’t solid. In dance, the basics and technique are those foundations. Without them, learning choreography feels overwhelming.

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Technique is a support, not a restriction

Good technique isn’t just about aesthetics — it’s what makes movements safe and natural. Once you know how a movement is built in the body, you don’t have to figure it out from scratch every time.

Weight shifts, hip movements, and arm lines form the skeleton of choreography. When these are already in your body, learning new sequences becomes much faster.

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Repetition creates muscle memory

Muscle memory comes through repetition. When you’ve practiced the basics enough, your body recognizes them automatically.
That means during choreography, your focus shifts from “what is my body doing?” to “how do I want to express this?”

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Basics unlock creativity

With strong fundamentals, you are free to focus on artistry — musicality, presence, and your personal touch. Without them, all your energy goes to figuring out technical details, and choreography feels stressful.

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My experience in Greece

I once joined a festival in Greece, where the teacher was a former Reda Troupe dancer. The choreography was deeply rooted in Mahmoud Reda’s style, which I personally love for its logic and beauty.

To my surprise, most of the students struggled with the movement sequences. For me, they felt natural and easy to understand. In fact, I felt a little impatient when the teacher spent so much time explaining what was, in my body, already clear. In the end, we didn’t even have time to finish the piece.

Later, I taught this choreography to my advanced students. I adapted the ending a little, and it became their absolute favorite. That experience reminded me how much easier learning becomes when the basics are truly in your body.

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💫 The basics are not a boring step on the way to something greater — they are the secret shortcut that makes choreography feel light and rewarding.

If you’ve ever tried to learn a choreography and felt like the movements simply wouldn’t stick, you’re not alone. Many dancers — even experienced ones — sometimes feel frustrated when learning a new piece.

There are a few reasons why this happens:

1. Every choreographer has their own “language”

A choreography is the choreographer’s interpretation of music, translated into movement. Each choreographer has their own way of expressing rhythm and melody. Once you’ve danced a few of their works, the style starts to feel more familiar — you begin to understand their “language.”

Some choreographies flow naturally, others feel more challenging. Often it depends on how well you connect with the choreographer’s style and the music. If the music inspires you, learning becomes easier — positive emotion enhances memory and focus.

2. Your teacher’s style shapes what you learn

No teacher is perfect. Every teacher has their own strengths — and their own blind spots. Some may favor certain movements while neglecting others. Over time, students tend to absorb these preferences.

That’s why I often encourage dancers to change teachers every few years. It broadens your perspective, exposes you to new movement vocabularies, and prevents you from getting stuck in someone else’s habits.

On my own classes, I teach choreographies by Egyptian choreographers, along with the related technique. This way my students get a variety of approaches, not only the movements I personally favor.

3. Awareness makes all the difference

Learning choreography isn’t just about copying what you see in the mirror. It’s about doing the movement consciously. Listen to the instructions: where should the movement be felt in the body? What muscles are working?

If you only follow the teacher without paying attention, learning will be slow — sometimes it won’t happen at all. But when you focus on the details, progress comes much faster.

4. Repetition — on and off the dance floor

After class, write down what you remember. It doesn’t matter if some details are wrong — the act of recalling already strengthens memory. Practice at home, even briefly, once or twice a week.

Oriental dance uses muscles you don’t typically activate in everyday life. By strengthening these muscles, you not only improve your technique but also make choreography easier to learn.

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💡 Tip: Next time you struggle with a choreography, remember — it doesn’t mean you’re a bad dancer. It just means you’re learning someone else’s “language.”

When it comes to dance, we often focus on how we look — on technique, lines, and precision. These things are important, of course, but they are not the whole story. Dance is not just movement; it’s emotion, presence, and connection.

I believe that if a dance feels good in your body, it already has the potential to be beautiful. Your joy and presence can be seen, even if every movement isn’t perfectly executed.

My own reminder of this truth

A few years ago, I performed a muwashah dance with my advanced group. The movements were exactly my style, and I loved the music deeply. On stage, I wasn’t just performing; I was feeling the dance. Afterward, a woman from the audience came to me with tears in her eyes and told me how much the dance had touched her.

At another event, we performed the same choreography again. This time, a fellow dancer in my group received feedback from her friend: “I could see how much you enjoyed yourself.” She, too, loved the choreography and the music — and it showed.

These moments reminded me that emotion is what connects a dancer to the audience. Technique can impress, but feeling is what stays in people’s hearts.

So if you are wondering…

Am I “good enough” to dance on stage? Am I “good enough” to call myself a dancer?
Here’s my answer: If you enjoy the movement, if it makes you feel alive, then you are already a good dancer.

Let your body speak the language of joy, and the rest will follow.

It happens so easily in a dance class. You glance at the mirror — and you’re not just looking at yourself, but at others.
Why does she look so graceful? Why don’t I look like that?

Comparison sneaks in quietly. Sometimes it feels motivating — “I want to dance like that too” — but often, it drains our confidence. Suddenly, your own progress doesn’t feel like enough.

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Dance is about comparison… but to what?

Dance studios have mirrors for a reason: they help us compare our movement to the teacher’s. That’s an important part of learning.
But here’s what we often forget: the teacher’s body is not your body.

The same movement can look completely different on different bodies — and still be correct.

I, for example, have a naturally flexible spine, so I tend to make movements look large and fluid. That’s an advantage when I’m teaching because the trajectory is easy to see. But I’ve also been a student in classes where the teacher danced with very small movements, making it harder to understand what was happening without asking.

On the other hand, if your teacher has a very mobile torso and your movement is smaller, you might feel like you’re “doing it wrong” — even when you’re not.

That’s why it’s important to understand what the movement is meant to do and adapt it to your own body. Find what looks and feels beautiful for you.

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Comparing to others won’t take you where you want to go

When you compare yourself to other students, your focus shifts outward. You stop noticing your own progress — and your energy goes to judgment, not joy.

The truth is, you don’t know their story. Maybe they’ve been dancing for years. Maybe they’ve practiced at home. Or maybe they simply have a different body type. None of that is your journey.

I’ve noticed in myself: the moment I get caught up in comparison, I stop hearing the music and the instructions. I’m no longer in the dance — I’m in my head. And that’s when the joy slips away.

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Your progress might be bigger than you realize

Often, the step that once felt impossible is now part of your body — and you don’t even notice, because it no longer feels hard.
When you stop looking sideways and start focusing inward, you begin to see your own growth — and celebrate it.

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💫 Will you ever be good enough? Maybe you already are. Or maybe you’re closer than you think.

Learning to dance is rarely a straight and steady path. It doesn’t progress neatly from one step to the next like a manual. It winds, pauses, circles back, and occasionally leaps forward.

Sometimes you notice your progress clearly – a movement clicks, your body feels stronger, something that once felt difficult becomes natural. And other times, it feels like nothing is moving at all. You keep practicing, but see no results. In these moments, many dancers wonder: “Am I really getting anywhere?”

Honoring your own rhythm

Each of us has our own pace – and our own life, which affects how and when we learn. Fatigue, work, relationships, physical energy, and life stages all influence how quickly (or slowly) we absorb new skills.
It’s perfectly natural to grow in waves: sometimes fast, sometimes slowly, sometimes not at all – on the surface.

The most important thing is to stay in motion, even when things feel still. Often, your body and nervous system are processing more than you realize. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, a movement that once eluded you suddenly becomes yours. It was simply growing in the background.

My own winding path back to dance

In 2013, I lost all interest in oriental dance. I decided to quit – not just take a break, but to never return.
Two years later, I unexpectedly found myself at a mother-and-baby belly dance class taught by a friend. It was casual and fun – we danced to some of Mahmoud Reda’s choreographies – but I still wasn’t ready. That, too, faded.

It wasn’t until 2021 that I truly returned to oriental dance, this time as a teacher again.
During those years away, I had trained in Irish dance and fallen in love with meditation. When I came back, it felt like I had taken a step backward.
But in reality, it was a step forward.

I fell in love with oriental dance all over again. And I realized that during my time away, I had grown – not technically, but emotionally.
Something new had entered my dance: feeling.

Practice is never wasted, even when it feels slow

Every repetition is a seed that may bloom later. Have you ever had a movement that felt impossible for months, only to suddenly come alive in your body later?
The body remembers – and reorganizes – as long as we give it time and space.

There’s no race in dance. No one is keeping track of how quickly you’re supposed to improve. But if you stay in motion, you stay in growth.

Progress flows like waves

It’s normal – and human – for learning to ebb and flow. That’s why one hard class or moment of forgetting doesn’t define your abilities.

Even breaks can be part of growth. They offer reflection, depth, and perspective. You may return to dance a different person – and in many ways, a more evolved one.

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💫 The dancer’s path is not a race. It’s a journey of discovering your body, your spirit, and your joy.
Let yourself walk it in your own rhythm – with pauses, detours, and bright moments alike. Every step belongs.