Yes, We Dance

(*Originally written in 2006. Well worth revisiting this one.)

The dance was nice. The music was great, but a little loud. It was very hot on the dance floor, but we found a personal wind tunnel near the entrance where we sat to cool us down.

And there on the dance floor was this early to mid-20s woman, wearing jeans and a white shirt, with what appeared to be her husband and two children.

They were dancing together as a family. At one point, she even got on her knees to dance with her less than three-year-old son while dad swung the daughter around and around.

I watched, entranced by the love and fun in this little family unit. They made me smile, filled my heart with joy.

Then, while I was sitting at this table watching them, this song comes on, this Natural Woman song.

“You make me feel…. you make me feel… you make me feel like a natural woman….”, and the woman on the dance floor with her family begins pirouetting, spinning, and lip synching with huge, dramatic arm movements, pretending to be belting out this song while holding an invisible microphone.

She was leaping around in the air, and did I mention, pirouetting?

At first, I shook my head while watching. Then I looked away, embarrassed for this woman. I couldn’t believe she’d get out there and make such a fool of herself. How dare she!

But then, I started to think about it…

And when I did, I started to laugh.

I looked back at her on the dance floor, pirouetting her little heart out, and she was smiling, dancing, laughing…

She was happy.

And she didn’t care if she looked like a complete idiot to someone else. She was having a good time, and that’s all that mattered to her.

And that’s when it really hit me…

I want to be as okay with myself as this woman on the dance floor is with herself, pirouetting and leaping and belting out Natural Woman if that’s what I want to do, without a single care as to whether or not someone else was watching or what they thought.

I want to be that okay with myself, that okay with the world around me. So I turned back around and watched her leaping and pirouetting and singing her heart out on the dance floor.

When the song was over, I stood and clapped for this woman—not the band, not the singer in the band who did the song, not the other dancers on the floor.

I stood and clapped for the woman who was content enough with herself and life to dance alone on a dance floor full of people, while pirouetting and leaping and singing her way to a good time.

I applaud this woman.

I wish you all the ability to pirouette and leap your way across the dance floor of life with no worries about who is watching or what they might be thinking.

Love and stuff,

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3 comments to Yes, We Dance

  • Angela Young  says:

    Nice. We worry to much about what others think!

  • Derek Odom  says:

    I have *been* that dancer so many times! I’ll bet that woman and I think and feel similarly. When I dance, or sing, or do something else generally zany and spur-of-the-moment, I’m not doing it for anyone else around me; I do them for me. I almost always come back from nights out with friends as the one who had the fullest experience. Why not? The inside you is not the same as the outside you. 🙂

  • Play Me a Memory  says:

    […] myself to do it once in a while. I wish that hadn’t been taken from me. I wish I could be like this woman on my blog about the jazz concert. But I’m not. Might as well jump… […]

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