On Dancing as it Relates to Life

It’s not that I don’t like to dance. I do. Sort of. I’m not very good at it, but like most things involving coordination, if you watch those who are good at it and take a deep breath, you can make yourself improve. Maybe not dramatically, but at least enough to make it look like you sort of know what you are doing. Of course, when those around me are “dirty dancing,” which was often the case this summer, I’d just as soon belly up to the bar. I guess it’s the Catholic schooled girl in me, I like to leave room for the Holy Spirit, thank you very much. And so, I’m left with people thinking that I just don’t like to dance and thus I don’t get many opportunities to dance. And it’s all fine. You can find me at the bar.

Because of this, I forget how amazing it can be to dance with someone who knows how to dance. And who leaves room for the Holy Spirit, thank you very much. It’s hard for me, because I … no surprise here … tend to want to lead. Which defeats the purpose of dancing with someone who knows what they’re doing. I was fortunate enough in college to have a standby, good friends-only guy who would accompany me to dances when necessary. And he knew how to dance; but, to make this work, I’d have to focus HARD on not leading and before I knew it, we’d be dancing.

I recently had the opportunity to dance with someone who knew what they were doing, and even after a few drinks I had to focus HARD on relaxing and only doing what he was guiding me to do. Kind of like when you get a massage and they tell you to let you arm or leg go limp. It’s HARD. HARDER than you think it should be since you’re essentially doing nothing … But if you try hard enough, close your eyes if you have to, you can be led. And before you know it you’re dancing and its fun, right up until you think about it and step on his feet.

And so, that’s what I’m trying to do now. In life, not on the dance floor. To focus on not focusing and see where it takes me. Its hard, really hard. But fun. Sort of. Right up until I step on his feet. At which point, you can find me at the bar.