Afraid to Dance

Last night I went to see the Mamaku Project play in the Central City. Sitting in the erected marquee "tent", I was spellbound by the smooth, exotic, tribal, and downright lusty sound of the brilliant female singer and the musicians that accompanied her. An unusual but harmonious and perfect grouping of brass instruments, various percussion, and one very mischievious accordion!
Not usually shy when it comes to a boogie, I was surprised to find myself reluctant to get up and dance...

The marquee had been set up for "seated" viewing. Banquettes rimmed the outside walls and in the center circle, right in front of the stage, the entire wooden dance floor was covered over by table and chairs. Sitting, sipping sauvignon, and simply watching the soulful music was clearly expected. However, the music presented a real problem as it powerfully compelled you to MOVE YOUR BODY!

Yet, as I sat in my seat tapping my feet, moving my legs, and swinging my shoulders, some part of me felt embarrassed to have such a primal response to the sound. Near the end of the set, when body finally beat out mind, I went up to the front of the room and joined the group of renegade dancers. I wished I had been brave enough to be there all night.

Why was I so embarrassed at showing a clear, physical, and passionate response to the music? I looked around at all the people sitting and watching the vibrant display and wondered if they were feeling the same internal struggle...And where does it come from--this strong and frequent restraint of our basic body "being-ness"? Why did I want to curb or hide this desire to move that emerged from a deep, instinctive, and ancient place inside?

I made an internal resolution to never again, when music and sound compels, pass up on the opportunity to dance. To be proud to move my body to the same beat of the earth, the stars, the heart.

Reread a line from Mary Oliver before bed...."You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves..."

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

Mary Oliver