One of my dreams for Spirit Moxie is to challenge the events we attend. When I was at the Wild Goose Festival, my mental challenge to them was to dance. When I shared this with some friends, there was confusion, but I was clear this was the right word. At the 2013 Wild Goose Festival people literally didn’t dance all that much. But “dancing” was required for the 2014 event to be the inclusive weekend they envisioned. That is, dancing by partnering with unlikely companions, dancing by playing with words, dancing by just letting go. And, of course, by simply dancing to the great music at the event.

It’s a popular image these days. A friend just challenged on Facebook, “Today, are you dancing on the precipice of chaos or swooning for the cradle of order?” Most people who responded to him opted for “both.” But why? What is it in us that resists dancing or makes us qualify it? Do we fear the feeling of letting go? Are we concerned that it demands something we don’t understand? We seem to crave order. Why? What is it about “dance as if no one is watching” that makes us say, yes, let’s do that — and then not dance at all?

For the record I love to dance. But in high school and college I felt that I didn’t dare.  From my perspective dancing involved doing set moves that felt like a test, sort of like line dancing does for me now. Dancing then brought out all my awkwardness and poor body image. Remember The Monkey and The Mashed Potato? For some reason I can still do an OK Twist.

But then, suddenly, toward the end of my college years it became acceptable – or maybe I just learned — to dance just by moving. Now this I can do, as long as it doesn’t involve serious ballroom moves. So I now deal with the different dance challenges of inconsistent music, no partners, and limited opportunities. And I watch sadly as even more people seem to just sit still when dance music is on.

For example I couldn’t get my younger son to dance with me at a recent wedding (no, not his). He just simply said he didn’t dance. Period. I see women dance together a bit more often nowadays and sometimes join in. But I know this isn’t some sort of female lament. Recent Facebook posts from male friends lamented the lack of dance music (or danceable music and dancers?) at a recent festival. And a friend allowed as how she should take me out with them because her husband would keep dancing long after her energy gave out.

Last week I was privileged to hear some African American drumming. Only about four people (out of a couple hundred) seemed to be moving at all. How could they sit still?

I think that not dancing, not daring to move, has become a social norm. We might look silly. We might, as my teen aged self thought, get it wrong. And we’ve forgotten how! Watch a small child hearing a song with a serious beat. It’s related to our heart — we literally carry a beat. Dancing is built into us. So if you don’t dance, why not? Seriously, I’d like to know and am having trouble getting answers when I ask.

A couple of days ago I asked a friend who is a drummer about this. I’m pretty sure drumming is all he thinks about. My first question was “Why do bands like it when people dance?” “That’s easy,” he answered. “When people are up and dancing they’re being entertained, and we want to entertain.” “So why don’t people dance?,” I then asked. “That’s easy, too. Good pulse is often missing from music these days.”

Hmmm. He went on to suggest watching King Sunny Adé or Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire. When I searched I found various cultural mixes of modern and African and this beautiful, non-verbal flirtation and seduction between Fred Astaire and Cyd Charisse: Dancing in the Dark in the Central Park. 

But again why bother even talking about it? We watch “Dancing with the Stars” and “So You Think You Can Dance.” We go to our school prom and then send our teenagers off to theirs. Perhaps we support ballet or groups like the challenging, creative ArtBark or the Dance Theatre of Harlem, You might have heard of Twila Twarp, who has reclaimed “modern” dance as true dance and as relevant to all. You probably haven’t heard of Misa Kelly, who challenges the dance scene in California and beyond (I met her in Brooklyn). Both hold dance as a way to express who we are and where we might go.

It’s even more basic than that. Gabrielle Roth said, “In many shamanic societies, if you came to a medicine person complaining of being disheartened, dispirited, or depressed . . . [they would ask] one of four questions. When did you stop dancing? . . . .” It’s even gotten scientific. For instance dancing has been shown to be much more effective in preventing dementia than that crossword puzzle you do a few times a week. So it would seem that in a disheartened world and our personal world of worries of “I’m afraid,” dancing might be the way to a more positive, joyous place.

Besides, while we might not physically dance, we do use dance as metaphor. We talk about dancing around an issue as a way of avoidance, but perhaps we avoid the issues as a way to keep from dancing. It is in letting go that possibility comes to the fore. So next time you’re confronted by uncertainty or avoidance, invite the issue into the dance. Dance with the challenge. Invite yourself in, too. And let go. Perhaps engaging and dancing with our world will heal us all. How might this work for you?

Meanwhile, if you really are going dancing give me a call. I’d love to come along.

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Photo credits from top:
ADaPT Fest 2013 — Beth Megill
Dance in Mother Nature’s Embrace — Misa Kelly
The Office — Lance Robbins
Promo photo of Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire — Public Domain
Stephen & Misa Kelly — Stephen Sherrill
No Strings Attached Dance Company — Kathee Miller