We’ve talked about this before, a bit. We’ve talked about the fear of singing, or musically expressing ourselves in any way.
But, darlings, we need to revisit this idea. And it’s not just about singing, it’s about all forms of inspired artistic expression. Oh, yes, I’ve been thinking about this a lot. We have put so goddam much pressure on ourselves to excel in fields we have no training in that we are paralyzed, and the idea of even trying to paint, or sing, or learn a musical instrument, or write a short story, is terrifying. And the idea that we can do these things for fun? Oh. My. God. How can I have fun when my hands are shaking so hard I can’t even pick up a paintbrush or type a single word?
I get it. I know, I’ve been a performer since I was 9, I’ve done more guitar workshops and led more songwriters’ workshops and groups than I can count. I sew and knit and crochet and have made some pretty awesome stuff. And I seem pretty fearless a lot of the time, sure.
But do not ever, ever, ever ask me to dance.
I recently read an essay called “The Importance of Dancing Like an Idiot,” and it really hit home. I had recently watched the performances of Shakira and J Lo at the Superbowl halftime show, and was impressed, awed, astonished, entranced, and delighted by their incredible choreography. After enjoying it immensely, I had to sigh and think, Well, that’ll never be me. And well, duh, it will never be me, of course not, because that’s not what I spent 50 years of my life training to do. I don’t think I even danced when I was a little kid. I wanted to be in the band, not on the dance floor, from the age of about 4. And I know this, oh so very well I know this, and so it gave me pause. Why would I even think that?
As I said earlier, it’s not just singing that we fear. It’s every kind of expression there is. We shy away from musical expression, partly because we have been conditioned by a music industry to be consumers instead of creators, and it’s been going on for decades. We idolize performers, because we have come to believe that somehow they have something extra, something we don’t have. And maybe some of them do. Maybe it’s just a need to let stuff out and their body’s safety valve is activated by a guitar. Or maybe it’s a drive to be the center of attention and be worshipped for something, anything, that will ensure their immortality. Maybe they were born into a musical family and just took it all in with mother’s milk and oxygen and it never occurred to them that not playing music was even a thing.
Same with dancers and painters and writers. There was something about expressing themselves this way that made their body-minds go zing! And for a lucky, lucky few, their families decided to unconditionally support their need for expression with investments of their time and money. The rest got told lessons were too expensive, and not worth it – which oftentimes was subconsciously, or consciously, understood as, “You’re not worthy of that much expense.”
Which may have led to a lot of folks feeling like they had no talent or ability whatsoever in the field that lit them up. Which is tragic, but all too common.
And then we inflict things like American Idol and So You Think You Can Dance on those poor, deflated souls, which just adds insult to injury. If you sing really good, you might not get made fun of by the mean British man, but you have to be incredible to actually get to move to the next level, and gods help you if you are enthusiastic but (ahem) never had any instruction to help you find a bucket that would actually carry any kind of a tune. And too many people think they fall into that category, and they really, truly don’t.
So me and dancing, wow. We get along okay when I’m at home and there’s no one to see me balter around like an ungainly newborn goat, but in public? I become as graceless as Elaine Benes after three shots of tequila.
Believe me, I’d love nothing more than to learn to trip the light fantastic, but I just freeze. So I don’t dance in public, and will never grow up to be like Shakira.
But dance is a huge part of pretty much every cultural heritage there is. You name ’em, they danced, from the earliest times to now. Men and women haven’t danced together for all of that time, and there are still places in the world where co-ed dancing is considered taboo. Dance is often the language of seduction, the give and take between partners that is a prelude to romance at the least. It also leads to ecstatic union with God/dess. Dancing for God doesn’t require grace, athleticism or even physical coordination beyond putting one foot down and raising another up while swinging the arms fairly madly, roughly in time with whatever drumming and/or chanting is happening.
It just requires that you pray with your entire body.
Oh, is that all? Piece of cake. Or not. You would find me dancing out beyond the edge of the fire, slowly walking in a rhythmic fashion and trying hard to fade into the shadows. But that’s no way to honor the gods.
If you have a desire to paint, play the accordion, learn jazz tap, carve marble into statues, design furniture, or decorate cakes, do it! Do it with your whole heart and send each effort up as an offering to the Divine. Say, “I’m learning in joy, and my efforts are perfectly imperfect, but the effort makes me feel more whole than I’ve felt in decades, so thank you for your patience and for filling me with such grace.” And give it your all.
Thanks for reading. I’m going to go put on some music and balter for God.