Just Dance!

I’ve never been much of a dancer. Sure, I love to move and “get my groove on”, but I feel sorry for the other people who have to witness it. I’ve never had the grace and poise of a ballerina, or the precision of a ballroom dancer, and I doubt I ever will. However, going to World of Dance opened my eyes to a beautiful reality: anyone can dance.

The stage was set for an exciting night. The curtain rose on a dense fog illuminated by a full moon looming in the background. In the distance, there arose a quiet tinkling of bells and soft chanting voices. The sounds blended and grew as the dancers transported the audience to another world. I was completely hypnotized. Not only did the movement of the dancers’ bodies capture my attention, but every aspect of the dance, from lighting to set to costumes, created a scene I could never have imagined alone.

When the first number ended, I was amazed to see that each dance number, one after the other, had an identical effect. Some struck me more than others. Some left me puzzled as to exactly what I had just been a part of. Others caused me to cry because I was laughing so hard! From ballet to blow-up dolls, from ethnic dance to romance, from clubbing to barefootin’, each dance was unique and stirred up its own set of emotions.

By the end of the show I was on cloud nine, but also deeply depressed. I had witnessed something amazing, and yet I was overwhelmed with a realization that I could never dance like that. My waltz would be spastic, my ballet shameful, and my ethnic dance would start the next world war. Just as I was about to give in to my personal pity party, the finale began. Together, all the dancers joined in a dance that was meant only for fun. The overall message of the show hit me like a brick. The dancers weren’t trying to say, “Dance like us.” They were trying to say, “Just dance.”

No matter who you are or how much talent you have (which in my case is none at all) you can dance. Dance isn’t only about precision or storytelling; it’s about having fun. My roommate and I were so eager to let loose that we threw a dance party in our bedroom. Apparently, we weren’t the only ones struck with dance fever. Before we knew it, we were involved in an impromptu dance party on the sunroof of Young Hall. Sure we broke three city ordinances and neighbors called to complain about the noise, but it didn’t really matter in the end. What mattered was how my outlook had changed. I’m no longer afraid to let loose and perform silly and possibly slightly embarrassing dance moves. From now on, I’ll just dance.