When we listen to a rhythm, why does our body begin to move, almost as if by magic? A first observation is that our ears, unlike our eyes, have no equivalent of eyelids. We cannot close our ears the way we close our eyes (except, of course, by using our fingers). This means that, in some way, we are in a constant “vibrational” dialogue with our external environment.

A second observation is that the spontaneous movement of our body does not occur in the presence of just any sound. If the rhythm is too monotonous and predictable, the response will be very weak, if not entirely absent, and the same happens when it is too chaotic—that is, lacking any structure.

A third observation is that we are more inclined to dance, to harmonious movement, when the rhythm that surrounds us becomes “syncopated,” that is, when there is a shift away from a preestablished equilibrium, when the unpredictable breaks the symmetry of the predictable. Each time this happens, our body-mind is surprised; surprise generates pleasure; pleasure allows us to tap into renewed energy, to explore the unexpected, to explore a trajectory that leads us toward a new equilibrium, a new understanding.

The practice of conscious movement ideally requires the presence of a few fundamental ingredients: a carefully tended space; a willingness to enter the dance while remaining present to oneself and seeking, as much as possible, to suspend the activity of ordinary thinking. Finally, it requires music whose rhythms and melodies relate harmoniously to the possibilities of our psychophysical instrument, while continually producing surprises—small challenges that foster active, mindful, and creative listening