I was
sitting in the car this week and one of my mom’s favorite songs came on my
playlist. It moved me to tears.
That
happens a lot lately.
The lyrics
danced around in my heart (which was appropriate, given the song.)
“And if
you get the choice to sit it out or dance. I hope you dance.”
Earlier in
the week I had a random out-of–the blue craving to go line dancing. No idea
why. Just did.
That
happens a lot lately too. (Random
life cravings, not line dancing.)
A friend
mentioned a music video featuring a memorizing dancer. I watched the video and
was memorized too.
The
song “Shut up and Dance” finds
itself stuck in my head a lot.
I got in a
conversation with teenagers about how white girls dance. (Usually by limiting
most movements to the upper body shoulder region.)
And finally
today, while I was out and about, I heard my mom’s song again over an intercom.
I don’t
know about you, but when a subject gets brought up that many times in a week I
want to pay attention.
Dancing. To
move about rhythmically to music.
I am not
much of a dancer. I have rhythm, which helps, and if the electric slide comes
on you will find me getting my boogie woogie on out on the dance floor.
But in the
same way people save singing for the shower I mostly save dancing for the car.
We all have
memories of dancing. The first ones generally involve a living room and your
parents. Followed by….
The horror.
It is 6th
grade and I am in gym class. Those two things alone make me want to invent time
travel just to hug my 12-year-old self.
The teacher
announces that our next activity is not going to be floor hockey; instead it
will be square dancing.
And we have
to find our own partners. Gulp.
After a lot
of pre-teen drama we all did and for the next 6 weeks it was a whole lot of
looking down at our shuffling feet, red faces, screeching music and sweaty
palms.
And then
came middle school dances, then high school, then prom…
I do have
some dancing experiences outside of the car and gymnasiums.
I tried
dancing ballet when I was five and quit after a recital. We were all so full of
fear that as the song Old McDonald had a Farm began to play instead of dancing
like farm animals we did a solid interpretation of deer staring into
headlights.
I danced in
musical theater in elementary, middle and high school.
I may or
may not have given in to the line dancing craving on more than one occasion.
I took
salsa lessons a while back, still have the shoes.
But mostly,
I am like most people, nervous to dance in public.
And there
is good reason for that.
Dancing is
ridiculous.
Not the
professional Nutcracker ballet kind. The everyday Joe is dancing at his
cousin’s wedding kind.
Think about
it.
On what
other occasions do we move and shake like that? None.
When is it
ever appropriate to get that close to another person in public moving that way?
Never. Never in any other context is that acceptable behavior. Can you can
imagine what would happen if someone started dancing at grocery store?
A friend of
mine and I were recently having a conversation at a wedding.
We both
decided that if aliens were to come down and visit earth there would be a few
things that would make no sense to them at all. (I know, an alien conversation
at a wedding?)
I believe
we mentioned money as one, the red carpet another and the third was dancing.
Alien log:
Humans appeared to be going about as normal until a certain sound came on. They
appeared to be under some kind of influence as they rushed together on a
platform and moved in a most peculiar manor, changing movement with the
changing sound. Some sounds produced synchronized and repetitive movements. At
times, they danced in pairs. Such movement is not observed in any other known
human activity.
Okay
dancing is weird and we all have awkward memories when we were younger but it
still doesn’t explain while I was moved to tears sitting in the car.
Why am I
dancing around the subject?
Let me
practice a few steps for a second.
If I think
about it, it is not just about the act of dancing. As my mom’s song suggests,
it is what dancing represents, the emotions and requirements that come with it.
Dancing
requires courage, energy, action and enthusiasm. You can practice for a long
time and still not be good, so just go for it. You generally don’t do it alone.
You are watched.
Dancing is
about engaging. Expressing yourself. Learning steps. Being put on the spot.
Looking ridiculous. Having fun. Navigating awkward moments. Being free. Being
vulnerable. Being clueless. Being together.
Dancing is
about slowing down. Speeding up. Using all of yourself. Stepping on people’s
toes. Having bad partners. Having good ones. Falling in love. Learning
something new. Taking lessons. Pulling muscles. Getting sweaty. Focusing.
Committing to it. Wild abandonment. Celebration.
It demands
you be here. Be present.
And unless
you are Justin Timberlake, it is risky.
It requires
you come out of your comfort zone in some way.
Dancing is
not just about listening, it’s about action.
It’s about
being moved.
It’s life.
Hence the
tears.
Go back and
substitute living instead of dancing.
It applies.
Living
requires courage, energy, action and enthusiasm. You can practice for a long
time and still not be good, so just go for it. You generally don’t do it alone.
You are watched.
Living is
about engaging. Expressing yourself. Learning steps. Being put on the spot.
Looking ridiculous. Having fun. Navigating awkward moments. Being free. Being
vulnerable. Being clueless. Being together.
Living is
about slowing down. Speeding up. Using all of yourself. Stepping on people’s
toes. Having bad partners. Having good ones. Falling in love. Learning
something new. Taking lessons. Pulling muscles. Getting sweaty. Focusing.
Committing to it. Wild abandonment. Celebration.
Living
demands you be here. Be present.
And unless
you are Justin Timberlake, it is risky.
It requires
you come out of your comfort zone in some way.
Living is
not just about listening, it is about action.
It’s about
being moved.
The song is
not about dancing at all.
It’s about
life.
That is why
I was moved in the car. My mom’s song. The song she wants for me and my sister
and brother. (And knowing my mom she wants it for everyone.)
When I hear
that song now, I hear it as my mother’s prayer.
When you or
someone very close to you faces something very serious, it changes things.
You realize
that the music in this life is not going to last forever. The song is going to
end.
The
question becomes: are you going to sit life out or are you going to get up on
the dance floor and live it?
I am not
even suggesting that dancing has to be loud and crazy. Some of us can sky dive
and backpack through India. Others might spend a weekend in silence.
It may mean
reading a book you love, smelling the ocean at least once a month, getting a
degree, getting in shape. Seeking forgiveness. Forgiving. Telling someone you
think they are amazing. Letting go of the past. Loving.
However you
are created to move, move.
It doesn’t
matter if you look weird or you haven’t found a partner yet or you think you
are bad at it.
Take
lessons. Pull others up to come with you if you need to.
But do it.
Even if you are on the “dance to the beat of your own music” type.
Rock that
funky chicken.
Own that
electric slide.
Impress
with the cabbage patch.
Dare to
tango.
Be
completely you. Don’t leave anything out.
Leave it
all out on the floor.
But dance,
for goodness sake, dance.
For me, I
will dust off the salsa shoes. Put square dancing and deer in headlights behind
me.
I am a
pretty decent line dancer. So
maybe it’s time for a waltz?
By the way,
the tears came at this line in the song, “May you never take one single
breath for granted.”
Thank you
mama, this one is for you.
Can anyone
hum a waltz?
One, two,
three, One, two, three…
Song referenced is " I Hope you Dance." By Lee Ann Womack
No comments:
Post a Comment