This is a post that I’ve been meaning to write for quite some time. Mostly because I’ve wondered what medium to put it in. Should I write a poem about dance? Should I film myself dancing? Should I write scholarly about it? A post about dancing might seem very odd in this setting. Very much out of left field maybe.
But dance is an important activity to me. I’m no professional, by any means, but I must do it. If I haven’t willed my body to move to music, I’ll have backed up negative chi (if you believe in that sort of thing). I have cousins who have asked me. “Charish, do you know how to dance?” It was a strange question to be asked, but half of me chalks it up to my family verifying my “blackness.” I’m an odd duck to begin with, what with my love for Led Zeppelin and everything on this list. . . But I casually replied. “Of course I can dance.”
Not because I’m arrogant, no, because we all can dance. I’ve been told that all humans know something about rhythm. We are conceived, born and we die in rhythm. Why can’t we all dance? I think what my cousins meant was “are you well-versed in the latest of dance moves.” For that, I must admit, no. I don’t know any one dance genre either. I can’t belly dance, I can’t tap, I’m not fluent in flamenco. I just move. And you can too!
I suppose the point of this post is that I want my readers and the world to take the time to revel in the world of movement today. However you can do it, do it. Noah could probably tell you that my dance looks a little like these video clips wrapped up into one strange theatrical performance:
So now you know I’m not an expert. But I’m completely confident that you should be dancing.
Its about exercise, sure. It’s a good way to get your heart rate up and get fit. Nothing will make you sweat more than throwing yourself around the living room to a Bjork song. (By the way, your music choice is your own, I will not judge if you don’t.) It’s also about expression. Moving to music is basic human instinct and I believe not moving will confuse your body. It’s not scientifically proven, but I think it might make you sad too.
When and where do I dance?
- When Noah is driving (I try not to obstruct his vision with my arm flailing)
- When I’m alone
- When I’m cooking (it makes the food taste better)
- At all weddings. Every damn one.
- At a bar or club.
- While dressing
- When I’m frustrated (yep, just like Kevin Bacon circa Footloose)
- In this coffeehouse, while writing this (covert head bop move)
So how ’bout it? Will you join me in a dance today?