In this world we live in, there are some people who can dance and then there are those who would fall flat on their faces if they ever tried. My talents lie somewhere in between the two extremes, but dancing has still been something I have tried to avoid at all costs.
I have never liked dancing and never had any desire to learn more about the art. My only experiences with dancing have been at weddings and a few school dances. But for the most part, I stayed as far from a dance floor as I possibly could.
My friends have always bugged me to come out dancing with them, telling me that it will be fun and that I won’t have to worry about looking stupid. But I would always tell them no. So eventually they gave up on me and just stopped suggesting it at all.
Case in point, this last weekend I was at a local festival with some friends enjoying some live music and generally enjoying the company of others.
The moment I walked into the festival tent, I couldn’t help but notice the large area cleared of any chairs or tables that couldn’t be anything else but a dance floor. I kept my distance as always, trying to avoid making eye contact with anyone who might have been dancing at the time in order to guarantee that I wouldn’t fall prey to the passing dancer who wanted a partner.
It wasn’t hard to stay clear of that section of the tent without drawing attention to my reluctance to step foot on the dance floor. For most of the night that is.
About two hours into my night, one of my friends, who had been a little late to the party, finally showed up and attempted to tempt our little merry band of miscreants to come join them on the dance floor. I was able to resist because it was still early and the urge to dance hadn’t really hit my friend all that hard yet.
So I toiled away a few more hours without incident, but I could sense something dark looming and I knew my time of freedom from the music would soon be coming to an end. That is when the same friend who had pestered me about joining them for a dance earlier made a second round in another desperate attempt to bring more people out onto the dance floor.
Once again, I tried to resist, but this time my friend made it clear that there was no way I could get out of it without making them extremely cross with me. And as much as I dislike dancing, I hate making my friends mad at me even more.
So I gave in and let my friend lead me onto the dance floor for the first time in a long time. I tried to get away with moving as little as possible in order to avoid actually showing my horrid dancing skills as long as possible. But I didn’t get away with it for long, for soon enough, my friend decided they were going to make me dance if it was the last thing they did.
At that point, my will to resist finally crumbed and I started to move my hips to the music in a feeble attempt to not look stupid with so many other people around me. However, I soon realized that no one really cared how bad my dancing was, they just wanted to dance with their friends.
This was when I finally understood that I could look as dumb as I could and no one would laugh at me. It was then that I figured out that I wasn’t actually as bad of a dancer as I had thought. And above all else, I was actually having a good time.
So now, dancing doesn’t really scare me as much. I may never win “So You Think You Can Dance,” but I will no longer shy away from dancing with my friends when the opportunity arises. I might even try to add in a few new moves next time.
The “Sprinkler” and the “Worm” are still cool dance moves, right?