As a dancer for almost 10 years, it is safe to say I have found my passion on the dance floor. From the exterior, dancers are super athletes — spending hours stretching and lengthening, always working to make the movements more perfect than they could ever be. Dance is hours of aching muscles and tired bones, leading up to two minutes of effortless grace and beauty. Dancers are performers. It is the aroma of hairspray, endless tubes of lipstick, and finding stray rhinestones all over the floor. Dance is putting on a show, doing whatever possible to put a smile on the audience’s face. It is bringing the house down, and feeling like you have accomplished something great.
But that’s just the half of it. Recently, I had a friend ask me, “Why do you dance?”
Well, picture this:
Imagine you are standing on the stage, all alone. You are enveloped in darkness, other than the white light that shines down on you, and you are overwhelmingly aware of your surroundings. You can feel your feet firmly planted in the ground; you feel your index finger twitching nervously at your side. You are engulfed in silence. All you can hear is your steady breathing and nervous heartbeat. Your mind anxiously circles around your routine, and you hope everything goes the best it can.
And then the music starts. The music. It consumes you, washing over your entire body. You are drowning in the melodies and graceful crescendos. You are drowning, but you do not mind a bit. You have become an instrument, a simple component in this beautiful piece of music. And then you forget. You have forgotten about the world around you. The moment you began to move, the world stopped in its tracks. You are at peace, because in that moment you finally have let go. You are in a world of your own, and what a beautiful world it is.
You are flying. Maybe not literally, but close enough. The floor has disappeared from beneath you, and you are floating on air. With each motion you are painting a picture, pictures that could never be adequately described with words. No, you are dancing a story with a language far beyond what words could merely capture. Your emotions have been turned inside out; your soul radiates out of
your fingers and the tips of your toes. You are pure.
Dance is so much more than just an exhibition of empty skills. The walls once built around your heart are in ruins. Your heart is open, full of love and life. Your heart is free. Finally, all of your hard work has been rewarded, because nothing beats this feeling.
That, my dear friend, is what dance feels like.
