It’s 1:19 AM and my ears are still pounding with throwback music from Moles. Believe it or not, this is the first time I went there in my 3 years of living in Bath. The music was not bad, it was nice to hear some oldies but goldies from the 90s and 80s. I love dancing, I love telling a story with my arms, while my feet tap the rhythm. I like to dance like no one’s watching, which might upset a few people who need their personal space and make one or two hen party girls jealous.
Dancing is a form of acceptance to a group. I got accepted in a couple of them, with smiles and encouragements from strangers. But I would always sneak away to some other corner of the room. It’s almost like I didn’t feel I belonged to any group as I prefer dancing on my own. Isn’t that a metaphor for life? A couple of Las Vegas looking lovers kiss after a mad dancing routine. Haha, they thought they were the best dancers here…but then I came along 🙂 Enough not so humble bragging, let’s get to the point.
Dancing is not just a form of socializing, being accepted in a group or showing off your calves. It is a form of expression. What can you express? Who you are, how you connect to people, what you feel. Music is the paint, you are the painter. If the paints you are given cripple and fragment before your very eyes with repetitive beats, that don’t mean anything, how are you to paint your masterpiece? DJs, give young people good music to dance to, so that they can feel what a person lived through their song and reflect it with their own expression and experience. Does that make sense?
There was only one song when I felt truly alive. I can’t remember its name, I just remember what I saw as my feet drummed the floor with the patterns of a raindance. I saw the deep rainforest and a leopard’s deep, dark eyes staring back at me. It was telling me I need to live. In order for one to live, one needs to cling on to what is worth living for, friendship, love, adventure, true, meaningful connections, their Creator and really good music.