I watched this video, and all I could think was, “This is wrong. Very Wrong!”
But…why was I smiling?
Dancing has never been good to me. When I was a little kid, one of my Sunday school teachers liked to punish disobedient kids by making them dance in front of everybody. Ever after, I would avoid any parties or get-togethers where dancing might be involved.
But then I grew up a little. I studied music. And I studied religion and spirituality. I learned that you’re really just fooling yourself if you think you understand something you haven’t experienced yet.
And then I started to pay more attention. It’s easier to pay attention when you notice how dance is basically a marriage between movement and time. I decided to observe as many things as possible, both within and without myself. The realization caught me off balance: everything is dancing. Including me.
I still don’t like the idea of dancing very much. What’s the use of making a ritual out of shame and embarrassment? But if I stay still for just a moment, then I can sometimes hear the inner music. It seems like people who really love to dance are not moving; they are being moved.
There must be a reason why I have to smile when watching people who love to dance. In my thoughts, I find them both puzzling and offensive. But I don’t stop smiling. Could it be that my body knows something that my brilliant mind overlooked?
I want to explain why dancing can make me smile, but explanations don’t come easily on this subject. A story might help, though. Stories have a way of explaining things that can’t be seen from the outside.
To be continued…