Dancing, and the lightness of being

Last night as my friends and I gathered up the equipment from the Bodyworks class that we had just finished, a young man wearing earbuds came into the spacious mirrored room. As we walked out the door, I saw him out of the corner of my eye as he began to move, dancing to the music on his iPod.

I paused just outside the door, fascinated, as I watched his graceful lithe movements. He spun, he reached, he flowed. I wished that I could hear the music he heard, so I could enjoy him even more. Some men, possessing that lean, flexible body, are made to dance. I watched for a moment, enjoying the beauty of his movements. I wanted to join him, I can make my body form those movements, too. But I couldn’t hear the music so I had to resign myself to being an observer.

I tore myself away, and we left. I thought about it off and on last night, and today as well. It was like when you find something shiny and irresistible, and you take it out of your pocket and look at it for a few seconds at a time, just to remember how amazing it is.

Tomorrow when I dance at the gym, I’ll remember him as I dance behind another friend who has that same light, joyful dancer demeanor. I watch him, and then I go crazy with energy. I pay for it later with soreness in my feet and lower back, but it is so worth it for that unbelievable feeling known as the incredible lightness of being.


3 thoughts on “Dancing, and the lightness of being

  1. For me, I suffer from “the inedible heaviness of clumsiness.” There is no way I can move like that (nor could I ever). And my sense of rhythm works in singing, but not dancing. If I were to try and dance with a coat rack like Fred Astaire, I know it would hit me in the eye, fall over, and end up broken. Ah, I envy you lightfooted types that can move so freely. For me, though, I will just walk away. (OK, let’s see. To walk away, it is left foot, then right, then left….)

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