It had been raining all day. Raining in that relentless, city-swallowing way. The kind that feels like it’s not just weather, but a mood. A statement. Fourteen hours of low light, puddled sidewalks, and a sky that wouldn’t let up. And after a day spent entirely indoors barely moving, I felt a familiar antsy feeling creep up inside me. One that told me the night ahead would be a restless one.
Sometimes I can sense insomnia coming. It announces itself not as a thought, but as a hum - somewhere in the chest, or maybe the back of the neck. A flicker of knowing: You’re not going to fall asleep tonight. Not easily.
And yet, sleep was non-negotiable. I had an early morning. A full day ahead. You’d think that would help, that urgency would coax my brain into cooperation. But, as you may know if you’ve ever laid in bed willing yourself to rest, it never works like that.
So I did something strange.
I got up. I put in my earbuds. And I danced. Alone. In the dark.
Just for a few minutes (well, twenty). No choreography, no mirror. Just movement. Just me.
And honestly? It changed everything.
Why You Should Try Dancing, Too
There are times when our bodies are smarter than our brains. Our brains lead us to believe we need to think our way out of something - through worry or overstimulation - but what we really need is to move our way through it.
This is something I first came across in Emily and Amelia Nagoski’s book Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle. In it, they write that stress isn’t just a mental thing: it’s physical. It lives in our bodies. And the only way to complete the stress response cycle is to physically move.
Think about it. Your brain doesn’t know what “anxiety about a late email” means. But it does know what sprinting, jumping, or flailing around like you’re in an early 2000s music video means. That kind of movement tells your body: we’re safe now. You can calm down.
It’s not about working out. It’s not about being a “good dancer.” It’s about shaking something loose. Giving your nervous system a signal that it can settle. And when done before bed, it can be the thing that finally makes sleep possible.
The Playfulness of It All
Something else happened while I danced that night. A kind of lightness entered the room.
In moving without purpose or an audience to impress, I accessed something childlike. I unleashed a playful, uninhibited energy that often gets buried under deadlines and to-do lists. The part of me that just wants to feel free!
It reminded me of that same feeling I get when I take myself on a date. When I let myself do something “silly” or small just for the sake of joy.
We often think healing or productivity has to be serious. But sometimes, the most healing thing you can do is act a little ridiculous on purpose.
Other Ways to Speak Body Language
Dancing isn’t the only way to complete the cycle. There are other movements - quieter, subtler ones - that speak the same language to your body.
One of my favorites is the tense-and-release technique: you squeeze every muscle in your body for five seconds (everything - fists, jaw, thighs, even your toes), then let it all go at once. It seems so small, almost nonsensical. But it’s powerful. A little somatic whisper that says, you can let your guard down now.
Other nights, I opt for stillness: legs up the wall, a few gentle stretches, or even Yoga Nidra or NSDR (non-sleep deep rest). These aren’t about movement so much as intentional rest—guided pathways into deeper awareness and parasympathetic calm. They’re especially useful when the stress is more mental than physical. When I’m not bouncing off the walls, but burnt out from carrying too much all day.
When to Tire the Body vs. When to Tend to It
This is the real art of it: noticing what kind of tired you are.
Sometimes I’m wired. Not because I did too much, but because I didn’t move at all. I’ve been inert, trapped in my head, my bed, my inbox. What I need then is to break the stagnation. To sweat. To remember I live in a body. That’s when the dance party works its magic.
But other nights, I’m overstimulated because I’ve been overextended. My brain feels like it has too many tabs open. I’ve said yes to too many things, juggled too many logistics, absorbed too much noise. That’s when I need the opposite of more energy. I need to soften. To return to stillness. That’s when I lie on the floor and listen to a Yoga Nidra track. Or write it all out until it’s no longer coiled up in me.
One is fire. The other is water.
Both can soften you toward sleep.
Try it tonight
If you find yourself buzzing with anxious energy at 11:47pm, you’re stuck in a thought loop, doom scrolling out of habit, or lamenting your lack of movement in a too-small apartment - maybe don’t reach for another snack or another screen. Try this instead:
Lights off (or dimmed so you don’t run into the wall).
Headphones in.
Pick a song that makes your heart thump or your chest swell.
And then move.
For 3 minutes. Or 5. Or 20. However long it takes for your body to believe you.
You don’t need to be graceful. Or even good. You just need to begin.
<3 Delaney
💡Additional resources on the power of dance and relaxing into sleep:
When to tire vs tend the body is exactly what I’ve been looking for. I’ve saved NSDR routines but haven’t tried them. Everyone’s talking about somatic healing and reparenting, and I’m looking for a standup desk at Costco. Not sure where this is going but I guess it’s time to experiment. Maybe do a little dancing when no one is around
love this yesss!! I find laughter also provides a perfect release and reminder that Im safe in my body