I don’t dance, I really don’t. But I have a friend, and she dances, and for the first time I realized why people do it. They dance like the way I write. I have to write. They have to dance. To tell what I feel, I write words and let the feelings flow through the page, let the world see what I think through words and stories. I put my soul in my writing.
They let the world see what they feel through movements. Through twitches of the feet and swaying of the hands and impossible flips. They show the world what they think of it by moving to the rhythm of life. I write my heart out, they dance their heart out.
And I watched her dance, and it was beautiful. I didn’t care about the movements at all, but the way she was doing them, she was feeling every inch, she was letting everything show, and for a wonderful 3 minutes I watched. And it was like I wasn’t there, it was just her and the music. I don’t dance. I don’t want to dance. But watching her, I felt like I could.
I felt like I could let the music flow through my body, and let it take control. I felt like I do when I want to write, it’s this inexplainable feeling. It makes me want to cry and laugh, whisper and shout, I can feel everything so clearly. Joy and happiness. Sadness and anger. It all floods over me and I let it, raising my arms up towards the sky as it cleanses me, letting everything ebb through my veins.
I feel so alive. Like every breath I take is the first one. Like every face I see is the only person I’ve ever met. The world is so big and wide and I could never explore all of it. Everything is so huge and I feel like I’m seeing through new eyes, through a clean window, watching a reinvigorated world.
Everything is so different. The snow appears whiter, the sky seems bluer than it ever was before. The sun grins at me and the grass waves hello. The birds sing a song that only we know, and the tree’s laughter floats back on the wind. There, in the midst of it all, I am, and I can feel it all so keenly. I want to shout and jump and laugh and cry and I can’t contain it all. It hurts and feels amazing, it makes me laugh and cry and ponder, and I just don’t know what to do with myself.
And I wonder, to myself, if this feeling is what we were meant to feel every day of our lives.