Sometimes, I forget why I love to dance. Just occasionally, and usually not for very long. I don't mean that I don't like to dance anymore -- how could I not? but I do lose the joy of instinctual response to melody and rhythm, I lose the excitement of movement as a result of emotion, and I lose myself, a little bit. It's scary. I feel small. Insignificant. Ill-equipped and unprepared. Worthless.
It makes me panicky and anxious. I think, "If I can't remember why I love this, why am I even doing it?" And then I realize that if I have to remember why, I wasn't doing it for the right reasons in the first place.
This feeling of fulfillment, of satisfaction, of completion, even, that I am blessed with when I dance? It's not something I created for myself, by myself. It is given to me of God. It is hardwired into my chemical and emotional makeup. I do not enjoy anything on this earth without His providence -- He made me the way I am! He made my eyes to be comforted by deep, lush greens, to delight in the bluest blues, and to seek out violently vibrant purples; He fashioned my ears to receive certain sounds and pitches with pleasure; He arranged those tiny nubs on my tongue so that I love the taste of pumpkin, of vanilla, and of grapes. And these physical qualities, characteristics that help to define me to my friends and family, are really only a very small part of me. With even more detail and finely wrought subtlety, my soul blossoms apart from -- but momentarily tethered to -- the body I have been given.
Albert Einstein is credited with saying that dancers are the athletes of God. When I first came across the quote, I was pleased. Flattered. Yes, of course we are; what physical exertion is more laudable than dancing? Thinking over the words later, in a slightly less self-satisfied manner, I realized it could be read as a mandate, rather than a commendation.
"Dancers are the athletes of God." We belong to Him. We dance because to dance is to exhibit ability, strength, and endurance that only come from God. We dance, and this is our offering; the dance is the blessing, and it is what we must give back in order for it to be what it is meant to be. It cannot be beautiful, or complete, or worthy of anything unless it is not for our glory but for His alone.
His glory alone.
When I lose sight of that, of my reason for breathing, for working, for playing, for dancing -- then do I loathe myself and cry out to God, crushed and overwhelmed by my smallness.
His glory alone.
When I lose sight of that, of my reason for breathing, for working, for playing, for dancing -- then do I loathe myself and cry out to God, crushed and overwhelmed by my smallness.
All my life, I have danced for myself. I danced because I loved it. I loved the way I felt, and I loved the community of which I was automatically a part when I was dancing.
Over the past two and a half years, I've finally discovered that I am happiest when I am not dancing for me. When I dance for God or for another person, to show them how very much I love them, that is when dancing is the most fulfilling.
Sometimes now when I dance, I allow myself to be excited. It's okay, I have finally realized, to get caught up in the movement, and to forget the steps.
Be in the moment. Live in it. Enjoy it. What are you saying? What is the purpose of your art?
In performance everything is choreographed [usually]. Everything is prescribed. The freedom isn't utter, in that you can do whatever you feel whenever you want...but you can still let go. Trust your muscles to remember the steps, and just move. Revel in the movement. Fall in love with the moment. True, technique is always nice, but to be communicative, you have to go beyond that. The audience doesn't care as much about what your feet are doing as what your face, your body language -- your heart -- is saying. Is dance just the regurgitation of steps and directional movement that somebody else has dictated? Shouldn't we take those movements and ingest them and make them our own, find the meaning behind them and then spit it out and say "Look, this is what I'm saying to you; do you understand?"
Be in the moment. Live in it. Enjoy it. What are you saying? What is the purpose of your art?
In performance everything is choreographed [usually]. Everything is prescribed. The freedom isn't utter, in that you can do whatever you feel whenever you want...but you can still let go. Trust your muscles to remember the steps, and just move. Revel in the movement. Fall in love with the moment. True, technique is always nice, but to be communicative, you have to go beyond that. The audience doesn't care as much about what your feet are doing as what your face, your body language -- your heart -- is saying. Is dance just the regurgitation of steps and directional movement that somebody else has dictated? Shouldn't we take those movements and ingest them and make them our own, find the meaning behind them and then spit it out and say "Look, this is what I'm saying to you; do you understand?"
One of my friends grabbed my hand as we were talking after a show this semester and she said "Sam, I want you to know how much I love your dance. I cry every time, because... it's real. I see you do a move, and I think, 'I know that place. I've been there. I understand, and I feel what you're feeling, and I know what you're saying.'" That was one of the best, most unbelievably gratifying things anyone has ever told me.
Isn't that the point? I want to be able to connect with people on an emotional level, to go to a place with them that is so gut-deep that there are not words expressive enough in existence to discuss it, so you don't even really try to talk about it. So you don't talk. You just do, and afterwards, you look into someone's eyes and you see the same look that is in your own, and you know. You just know. They are right there with you. You have communicated with them. You have shared a gift, and the sharing makes it all the more wonderful and precious to you.
Doing something you love shouldn't be -- isn't! -- something that requires mental consideration, logical analysis. You don't love it because you have to think about it. You love it because you don't. You love it because you cannot help but love it. You don't have a choice in the matter, and if you did, you would choose to love it anyway. To think about life without it is ...unthinkable.
Isn't that the point? I want to be able to connect with people on an emotional level, to go to a place with them that is so gut-deep that there are not words expressive enough in existence to discuss it, so you don't even really try to talk about it. So you don't talk. You just do, and afterwards, you look into someone's eyes and you see the same look that is in your own, and you know. You just know. They are right there with you. You have communicated with them. You have shared a gift, and the sharing makes it all the more wonderful and precious to you.
Doing something you love shouldn't be -- isn't! -- something that requires mental consideration, logical analysis. You don't love it because you have to think about it. You love it because you don't. You love it because you cannot help but love it. You don't have a choice in the matter, and if you did, you would choose to love it anyway. To think about life without it is ...unthinkable.
