Perhaps the strangest thing about it is that, well, almost anyone and everyone can do it. Right? Or at least so they think. There isn’t anyone who thinks he is or she is a bad dancer. Well, sure many admit that indeed they’re horrible, and must have exchanged their feet with jelly at some point, but that’s not exactly a personal opinion. It’s borne out of the shell-shocked facial expressions they noticed on friends on or strangers the first time they made their ‘moves’ public. And/or the more direct retorts they had thrown at them. But before that happened, causing them to observe one of the remarkable ego-bubble bursts of life and react with either a blush of shame or the furious blush of defeatist defiance, they did really think they were quite alright. And at that moment they preferred dance to any music of the spheres or song of the Greek island people.
There is a perfectly valid reason for it too. Although you may never have thought of this way, it is really is there. The trouble you would have in believing me may stem from one or both of two popular, oh-so-well-loved sources bearing aggressive verbal projectile. One, that surely the speaker is an idiot. He must be wrong, unless he’s being very entertaining about it, in which case let’s believe everything he says. The second excuse or, in your prized opinion, valid counter-point would be song. How can dance better song? It is eternal, it was, it is and it may well survive the nuclear world war. Why not? But, in both these hypotheses, and here I am even honoring your bilge and derision of my contentions as hypothesis number one, you would be slightly incorrect.
More than slightly, but we have really all day ahead to demolish your two counter-arguments. So we’ll get to that later. Good debating technique dictates that one present the bone of contention before one spotlights the dogs sharpening claws over it, and I have erred in that already. In the spirit of forgiveness, forgetfulness and ‘better late than never’, I offer my humble argument. Said bone alleges that a major reason why everyone thinks they can dance is that actually everyone can. The backbone supporting this outrageous notion is that through ages, eras, lands and tribes and civilizations, nothing else of one has more perplexed another. Also, nothing else of one has matched less with its equivalent across the ocean. By its very nature, dance has always been as diverse as music. Unlike music, however, it has always been more to every single individual than song.
You say that songs are eternal. I agree. You say that music represents the pure perfection and pristine truth that our words and works are never quite able to capture. I agree. You say that songs have remained unchanged in generations and sometimes we still sing the songs of people hundreds of years dead, showing our perpetual connection with all of mankind even if the words and tongues are lost forever. I will agree with that too. You are correct in each one of your statements, and I’m sure you have some more to give me. But, really? Allow me.
Songs will always hold their position in the world. Their beauty is for everyone to see, to acknowledge and to concede. That unfortunately is what renders their defeat.
Dance changes with time and with mood. It changes in form, in cause, in effect, in desired result (some expect rain) and is rarely passed down the same way as song is. Where are the pillars of perfection? Where is the world’s greatest of all time, at any one time? My very point is that they aren’t and there isn’t. The mystery lies in what it arouses. The secret, as to why we dance, lies in its catalysts and not in the drum-machine beats of a disc-jockey with gelled hair and fancy clothes. Dancing, and I do not mean that word in any but the most unconventional sense, belongs to one and all. Everyone can do it. Everyone can be a good dancer. You do not need to train for it. You do not need to be born with it. You do not need to undergo harsh discipline to cultivate it or make it your life’s goal.
It comes from within. It is every man and woman’s naturally gifted talent. Something God ordained and made provisions for. Some woman pole-dance too, but more on that later. The union of your physical body to the excitement in your mind, to the euphoria of the senses, to the abandonment of reason, to the embracing of momentary madness does not require a prescribed process. Although I know some of you attend weekend classes with your soulmates or your wives, you don’t really need the 1-2-1-4 process memorized in your feet to achieve it. Inside your head, you already know if you are happy with it. Lose yourself, your arms, your legs, your hips and your head to the rush inside, and you have dance. Stay tight inside a circle and barely moving your elbows, and you may still be dancing. The brilliance is that you are dancing, each and every time that you think you really are.
The mind and the body are one. The next time you go clubbing or to a fancy ball somewhere, wait for that moment. In that moment lies the joy of living – a pure, unbridled celebration of being alive right now. In that singular moment, you will see … infinity.
There is a perfectly valid reason for it too. Although you may never have thought of this way, it is really is there. The trouble you would have in believing me may stem from one or both of two popular, oh-so-well-loved sources bearing aggressive verbal projectile. One, that surely the speaker is an idiot. He must be wrong, unless he’s being very entertaining about it, in which case let’s believe everything he says. The second excuse or, in your prized opinion, valid counter-point would be song. How can dance better song? It is eternal, it was, it is and it may well survive the nuclear world war. Why not? But, in both these hypotheses, and here I am even honoring your bilge and derision of my contentions as hypothesis number one, you would be slightly incorrect.
More than slightly, but we have really all day ahead to demolish your two counter-arguments. So we’ll get to that later. Good debating technique dictates that one present the bone of contention before one spotlights the dogs sharpening claws over it, and I have erred in that already. In the spirit of forgiveness, forgetfulness and ‘better late than never’, I offer my humble argument. Said bone alleges that a major reason why everyone thinks they can dance is that actually everyone can. The backbone supporting this outrageous notion is that through ages, eras, lands and tribes and civilizations, nothing else of one has more perplexed another. Also, nothing else of one has matched less with its equivalent across the ocean. By its very nature, dance has always been as diverse as music. Unlike music, however, it has always been more to every single individual than song.
You say that songs are eternal. I agree. You say that music represents the pure perfection and pristine truth that our words and works are never quite able to capture. I agree. You say that songs have remained unchanged in generations and sometimes we still sing the songs of people hundreds of years dead, showing our perpetual connection with all of mankind even if the words and tongues are lost forever. I will agree with that too. You are correct in each one of your statements, and I’m sure you have some more to give me. But, really? Allow me.
Songs will always hold their position in the world. Their beauty is for everyone to see, to acknowledge and to concede. That unfortunately is what renders their defeat.
Dance changes with time and with mood. It changes in form, in cause, in effect, in desired result (some expect rain) and is rarely passed down the same way as song is. Where are the pillars of perfection? Where is the world’s greatest of all time, at any one time? My very point is that they aren’t and there isn’t. The mystery lies in what it arouses. The secret, as to why we dance, lies in its catalysts and not in the drum-machine beats of a disc-jockey with gelled hair and fancy clothes. Dancing, and I do not mean that word in any but the most unconventional sense, belongs to one and all. Everyone can do it. Everyone can be a good dancer. You do not need to train for it. You do not need to be born with it. You do not need to undergo harsh discipline to cultivate it or make it your life’s goal.
It comes from within. It is every man and woman’s naturally gifted talent. Something God ordained and made provisions for. Some woman pole-dance too, but more on that later. The union of your physical body to the excitement in your mind, to the euphoria of the senses, to the abandonment of reason, to the embracing of momentary madness does not require a prescribed process. Although I know some of you attend weekend classes with your soulmates or your wives, you don’t really need the 1-2-1-4 process memorized in your feet to achieve it. Inside your head, you already know if you are happy with it. Lose yourself, your arms, your legs, your hips and your head to the rush inside, and you have dance. Stay tight inside a circle and barely moving your elbows, and you may still be dancing. The brilliance is that you are dancing, each and every time that you think you really are.
The mind and the body are one. The next time you go clubbing or to a fancy ball somewhere, wait for that moment. In that moment lies the joy of living – a pure, unbridled celebration of being alive right now. In that singular moment, you will see … infinity.
