Dance Like You're Dancing for Someone You Love

I was flipping through TV channels one night and stopped on “Dancing with the Stars.” What caught my attention was that Laila Ali, daughter of boxer Muhammad Ali, was one of the dancers.

It so happened that her father was in the audience that night. It was obviously a physical strain for him to be there, yet he wanted to be present to watch his daughter dance. Before dancing, Laila talked about what it meant to her to have her father present. She was so excited to have him see her dance and obviously wanted him to be proud of her.

There was something especially poignant about Laila’s dancing that night. The dance floor seemed charged with emotion and meaning as I witnessed both her beautiful dancing and the joy and pride shining from her father’s face as he watched her. The great boxer had tears in his eyes and his face glowed for his daughter.

I attended a wedding a couple of years ago where the bride danced for the groom as part of the wedding ceremony. As a guest it was an incredibly intimate moment to share with this couple. The bride glowed as she moved gracefully for her groom, love and intention communicated through every movement, through every beat of the music, every word of the song. The dance was truly for him and him alone, the rest of us may as well have disappeared. Somehow, though, the dance was also a public declaration, a public celebration. The guests at the wedding were witnesses of the giving and receiving of a very personal gift. To watch the groom’s face as he beheld his bride, as he received this gift of dance from her, oh, it was a wondrous thing!

The tradition of the bride and groom’s first dance is an extension of this concept. They publicly share their first dance as husband and wife, dancing together joyfully and proudly; their parents, sisters, brothers, cousins, and friends looking on with pride.

I have begun to explore this concept. How does it change my private dance, my attitude about my body and dancing, when I dance as though I am dancing for someone I love? I never danced with my father, at least not that I can remember. He died when I was nineteen. I have never danced for my husband; with him, sure, but not for him. He’s still around, so I have no excuse, except for my own bashfulness.

I have an innate desire to make my father proud. So, to imagine dancing for my father is very powerful for me. The emotions are many when I dance like I am dancing for/with my father. Contributing to the depth of these emotions is the fact that I had only a short time with him.

Thankfully, I have a positive relationship with God as my Father, and so I can experience dancing for – and with - my Father in that way. This makes for a very powerful dancing experience. It is dancing as an act of communion, worship and gratitude.

I honestly never thought, until just this moment, about dancing for my mother. Not sure why this hasn’t every crossed my mind before now. My gut feeling is that dancing for my mother would be with the intention of celebrating her as a woman and mother, and what she has given me as her daughter.

As far as dancing for my husband, well, I will meet that challenge at least once, sooner or later. I’m going to have to ease into it, though. And this is certainly interesting to ponder. Why would it be so challenging for me to dance for my husband? My goodness, we’ve been married for 23 years and together for 27. He’s certainly seen me at my best, my worst and everywhere in between. Yet, there is something incredibly intimate and …scary, exciting, weird, silly, strange, wonderful … to think of dancing for him.

To be honest, at this point in my private dancing experience, I can honestly say it is a unique experience – and a bit of a personal stretch - just to dance LIKE I’m dancing for someone I love, let alone actually doing it. I am loving the personal growth that is springing from the act of “dancing like” and that is okay for me for now. I’ve given myself permission to imagine it out, whether I ever act it out for real or not. (Side note: Sometimes I think we limit our imaginative experiences because we think that they must be made real at some point in order to have value. Ah, I sense a future blog entry here…)

Dance like you’re dancing for someone you love. It will touch your heart in ways you may never imagine.

Sharing the journey,
Kelly

Dance Like You're Dancing with a Friend

After my post “Dance Like No One is Watching” a friend of mine shared that she was inspired to dance naked in the tanning booth. So often when I’m dancing I think of her and know that there is a friend I’m dancing with.

One of my morning rituals, when my schedule allows, is to watch at least the first 15 minutes of the Ellen Degeneres show in the morning. Ellen makes me smile and laugh out loud. And every morning, I dance with Ellen.

I’ve experienced being in a room of people who are all dancing, yet each person maintained an individual expression. It is hard to explain exactly; each person was dancing privately though we were all in the same room. Or at least that was my experience. At that time, dance seemed to be a kind of physical meditation of a personal nature; a way to get in touch with one’s body. It was not so much intended to be a group exercise or interaction, though we were all dancing “together”. This, for me, falls under the category of “dance like no one is watching”. I look forward to exploring this experience further. It is not what I’m talkin’ about now, though.

Have you ever taken over the dance floor with a group of friends? No personal drama or relational entanglements to worry about, no mating ritual posturing, no couples pairing off, just a group of friends out for a good time. Remember dancing around with your friends, laughing and cutting loose and having fun? Remember how the shared energy and laughter just cultivated more and more enjoyment?

I’ve found that there is, for me, a different level of joy and abandon when I am dancing with a friend --- or friends. The experience of sharing the bliss of music and movement really gets me energized. I love it when I can dance together with other people who are also having fun dancing. I’m less self-conscious and more able to just let go and dance. I feel empowered and inspired and willing to really just move for the sheer joy of it.

Whether I’m actually with a friend, or thinking of a dancing friend, or dancing with Ellen on TV, I love the joy I get when I dance like I’m dancing with a friend.

Dance party anyone?

Hugs,
Kelly