I take a break from dancing, my feet are beginning to ache, my dress seems heavier, weighing me down, I quench my thirst as I catch my breath. I’m on the dance floor today joining in on a celebration. It amazes me how the music can keep you going paired together with a drink or two. But then I wonder, is it really the beat? In the past I danced because I knew how. Some of us just dance because we can, some of us dance because it makes us feel good. I dance also because I feel unburdened now.
I glance around at the crowd, this reunion I once hung out with is now somewhat estranged. Nothing much has changed but distance has set in and there is a slight chance that some of them look at me with suspicion. For the most part it’s not affecting me but gravity is doing its part when no words are exchanged. It becomes relevant that my absence stirred some curiosity but I have done a good job of dodging the questionable. Just like dancing alone I have found the antidote for a solo life.
We all hold secrets, we all keep some portion of grief to ourselves, things we can’t share for the betterment of another or because we don’t want to seem vulnerable. It’s a small part of you, you don’t want to reveal for fear of judgment. There’s also an element of trust lurking overhead. Some of us carry burdens from childhood. We want to believe that our younger years were somewhat perfect but deep down we know we have covered up something or another.
On this trip I listened to a few stories from people I know on this very dance floor. I assume they shared with me because I was the one that broke free from the norm, and also I don’t live here anymore and I didn’t judge them. Nothing that was said shocked me. What bothers me is people cannot always voice their sorrows or they find it hard to come to terms with whatever dampened their life. I know what makes them bottle up the anger, frustration and sadness so deeply, spilling it out may cause more damage, when the damage is actually happening to themselves. The worst thing one can do is blame themselves for something that was out of their control. But just like me, time will one day be on their side if they choose.
It makes me want to believe that each one of these people I scan are hanging on to some kind of trauma, that is why they behave a certain way, talk a certain talk, choose to sit on the side or dance their heart out. Insecurities, they surface from something, you aren’t born with them. The bitterness or arrogance one shows stems from a past wound.
Life has shown me that having empathy towards another can actually also help you relate. I do relate now, having unchained myself, I can now sympathize on a different level. The ones like me who dance their heart out feel free I assume. The others who sit watching have yet to deal with their own issues. They sit silently judging, but fear judgment themselves. I dance my own dance now. I’ve rationalized my behavior and given in to the standards that this race lives by. You can sit and watch, but it will get you nowhere.
I beckon a few to join me to dance, I’d like them to experience what it feels like on this side of the dance floor. I want to tell them, why I dance differently now and how dancing can free you, how it empowers you if you allow yourself to just let go.