“Your love for yourself is only shown when you’re dancing freely.”–I don’t know who said that but I like it.
When I was in high school, I loved to dance. I had two teachers who took upon themselves to teach me to dance. Right there in the high school gym in front of God and everybody. We were fortunate to have some outstanding teachers in our school. Not just good at teaching us math, etc., but they cared enough about us as human beings to chaperone our dances and teach us the social graces. Thank you, Brothers Gabriel.
I don’t know how I managed to marry twice and both of them were/are non-dancers. They wouldn’t even dance with me in the privacy of home. I have no intention of marrying again but if I should find someone I want to hang out with, you can be sure he will be someone who will dance and sing with me. He doesn’t have to be good at it. I’m not. But he has to love life enough to make a stab at it. If life really is a dance, I feel as if I’ve missed out on a great deal of it.
I have danced over the years in my living room with a baby in my arms. Sometimes my own, sometimes a grandchild. And most of them loved for me to rock them and sing–sometimes made-up songs with their names in them, sometimes a hymn, a popular song or just nonsense syllables. I sing with gusto in church and in the car. And yes, sometimes I take out all the stops and sing and dance without inhibition here in the house all by myself. Usually after I’ve closed the blinds. Time’s a-wasting and I don’t want any regrets from here on out. Dance as if no one is watching. Sing as if no one is listening. Now! Before it’s too late.