Dance with Me

I am not the same dancer with all partners. Nope. I wish that I were, but in real life, that is not how it works. I react differently depending on who I’m sharing the dance with.

Some partners cast a spell that convinces me I can do anything on the dance floor. My body feels loose and free. I follow like I have a psychic link with my leader. My creativity has no bounds and ideas come out of nowhere. I am at my best.

With other men, my body turns to tin. I am the Tin man dancing Salsa. I clink and clonk as I struggle with stiff arms and legs. Nothing works right. I spin around the dance floor asking,”What’s happening to me?” I don’t recognize myself. My creativity is gone. I am trapped in a tin can.

Why? I shake my head, shrug my shoulders, and wonder. A typical Salsa song lasts only five minutes. How can I change so much in such a short period of time?

The partner I dance best with laughs at our mistakes. He smiles even when I miss his lead. He holds my hands with just enough grip to give clear directions, and yet it’s a light touch so I don’t feel restricted. This type of leader gives me opportunities to play with the music and dance on my own.

On the flip side, I dance my worst when my mistakes seem to upset my partner. My body stiffens if he tries to correct me verbally. If he grips my hands too hard, my arms tighten. If he never lets my hands go, then rigor mortis sets in. I wait for some opportunity to express myself, but it never happens.

Could it be that certain types of people bring out the best in me? If it can have such a profound effect on the dance floor, then how much more of an impact could those closest to me have in shaping my life?

I am at my best surrounded by people who encourage creativity, laugh at mistakes, and appreciate teamwork. I become less of myself around those who are critical, controlling, and leave little room for self expression.

I think I’ll keep this in mind as I go forward in life.

What about you? Who brings out the best in you?

My advice? Dance with them often.

The Dancing Writer

Dancing and writing are the funky glasses I wear in life that gives color and depth to the world around and within me. One grounds me to the physical sensation of being alive. The other invites me to launch my imagination and explore endless possibilities. Dancing inhabits only the present, whereas writing exists forever on the page. And so I dance and write between now and forever in a playful way, living life in the moment and writing down what I learn.

Okay, so that’s the fancy way of saying both are just so much fun! I honestly don’t recognize myself if I don’t dance and write. This blog is my way of sharing what I love. My life is far from perfect, and I’m fine with that. What could be more boring than being perfect? No, I’ve had many bumps and bruises along the way, and skinned knees from kissing dirt after a tumble. Countless times, I have ended up hopelessly lost. And yet, here I am still standing, wearing my funky glasses.

I’m sure this blog will be about many things, because life is just so damn interesting, isn’t it? However, there is one question that is closest to my heart. I’m sure it will show up in my writing wearing disguises here and there, and when you spot it you’ll say, “Yep, I recognize that character.”

So, I’ll ask the question here. Are you alive?

Please tell me you’re not among the living dead. Zombies are all around us. I talk to them every day. Instead of seeking brains, the modern Zombie just wants more. More of what? Well, more of anything that will fill that void of not having enough. More time to get things done, more youth, more goodies, more money, more perfection, you get the idea. I was a Zombie for many years. I died taking care of everyone else. Never even noticed, I wasn’t even invited to the funeral. I just lost touch with that feeling of aliveness that comes from slowing down and breathing life in.

Somewhere along my twisted travels, I’ve come back from the undead. I dance and write, and I don’t think Zombies are capable of doing either of those things. So as long as I keep writing, you can rest assured I’m alive.

What about you? Did you check? If you found a heartbeat, then I hope this blog inspires you to keep exploring your own curiosities. If you didn’t find a pulse, don’t panic. Zombies are welcome here too. The more you hang out with the living, the more likely you’re heart will recharge. I’ll even let you borrow my funky glasses.