I don't dance in public, because my moves look alarmingly similar to this.
But I enjoy dancing. I hear music and I want to move. An ancient and primal instinct, alive and well in my uncoordinated body. I keep the urge under control for the sake of innocent Bystanders and my own dignity. A shoulder shrug or a toe tap is usually the extent of my expression. Usually, not always. Not a single cloud dares show its face in the summer morning sky as I run through the upper Provo hills. I look over the tree-filled valley, and am filled with...awesomeness. And the song blasting through the buds in my ear is spectacular. I can't help it. I start to move with a bit of spunk. A skippy sort of jog. And my arms. They want to move. They raise. a little. A little more. They're swinging in the air above my head. Peridoically i turn around, assuring a clear coast. And then I move my lips to the lyrics. I'm a dancing fool in the most foolish way. It feels so good.
Maybe I did it to have something to blog about. I've been guilty of that before. But really, I believe it was a moment of blissful insanity.
that's one reason i've stopped listening to music while i run. i want to dance. and running while dancing takes longer than strictly running.
ReplyDeleteI hope you dance...
ReplyDeleteI think throwing caution to the wind and just dancing is so cathartic that it dissipates any thought of embarrassment.
ReplyDeletelove the desire to dance comments-- i love dancing too. my ten month old niece already shakes her head to any beat she hears...i love it!
ReplyDelete