The Dance

I'm cooking up a blog on humility that'll have to wait until next week because this weekend, I learned how to dance and I feel like it's important enough to write about while the experience is fresh.

For a long time, I've loved dancing but been too self-conscious to really enjoy it in public. In my room, with my stereo blasting, it's hard not to. If you've ever seen me play guitar on stage, music is something that I can't help but physically react to. This past New Year's though, I went dancing with a girl I was seeing at the time and I committed myself to having fun and not worrying about what other people thought. And then I realized that my worst critic was not how other people looked at me, it was how I looked at me. I felt that my steps lacked grace. They were twitchy and contrived. As the evening wore on and I began to relax more, my movements became more fluid.

I still look like a chicken with a seizure, but the metaphor led me to a much greater realization that really took hold this weekend and reminded me of the sensation I got when I took salsa lessons this past fall. The world twists under our feet when we least expect it, shaking our core and throwing us off balance. This can leave us with a sensation that literally feels like we're falling. Or being crushed under an enormous weight. I felt both sensations very intensely this weekend and at a loss for relief, I imagined myself dancing.

(The key here is imagination...)

When I imagine dancing, I am graceful and fluid. I am balanced and innovative. I move in unison with the rhythm and feel the music pulse through every limb. I happened to be on the 6th floor of the Drake and looking out over Chicago, I danced through every intersection and off every wall. Soon, my balance had returned and while the stress and anxiety still ached, I was armed to deal with it, face it, and dance. To move with fluid motions means not acting impulsively because impulsive actions resemble the twitchy, stiff movements that are not musical or beautiful. But this does not rule out improvisation, instead it provides a more effective way to improvise without acting thoughtlessly. When I am dancing, even in my imagination, I am untouchable. I float over whatever has shaken my balance and I am freed of the stress and panic of the moment. I am more me because I can think more clearly.