I Think About You

“And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.”

-Friedrich Nietzsche

I think about you when I write. Every. Single. Time.

Still, I cannot decide if it inspires or impedes my writing. Probably both. Which is probably a good thing.

You mean so much to me. I want you to have a good time here. I want you to think about things differently, or feel affirmed that “someone else said it too” and you feel a little less alone somehow. I want you to see things in yourself that you might have been neglecting. I want you to feel loved and valued. I want you to laugh a little. *I doubt it will be an out loud laugh, but there is something so satisfying about a secret inside laugh when something clever, offbeat, dark or witty is said.*

A little sharp exhale out the nose even from time to time would make me feel fabulous.

Frankly, part of the reason I care so much about you is because many people I’ve “known” for 20+ years don’t see me the way you do here.

This isn’t a blame or victim statement. It’s just fact. I have found it to be rare that others really take time to eagerly listen and allow the space to hear someone fully express thoughts and feelings.

These seem to be the big 4 that get in the way of connecting with others on a deeper level.

1) They become uncomfortable with their own feelings while listening.

2) They interject with their perspective on a line, detailing the message, before the full thought is fully expressed.

3) They are simply not interested in the topic being discussed.

4) They do not have time or capacity to engage in vulnerable, controversial, intimate or honest conversation. Let alone a combination of those elements.

Truthfully, many of the interactions I’ve had with people I’ve “known” for so long are about as complicated and interesting as the popular party dance: “the electric slide.”

These aren’t necessarily unpleasant interactions. The “electric slidebrings smiles, camaraderie, and requires very little effort once you get the hang of it. Almost everyone can do it. You can hop in and out of the dance as you please. It is a basic rhythm, with respective moves that some people like to “jazz up” a little… but never too much to fall out of formation. It can work up a sweat, releasing natural endorphins which can be satisfying to our basic human social need. If you don’t know what the electric slide is…think of the dances shown in European time pieces. It is a basic social dance. Minimal physical contact.

So, what’s the downside? The electric slide sounds fun! It is. Maybe it’s all some people really want. I am just not those people. I feel VERY unsatisfied and needlessly tired after this type of dance because *secretly* when it comes to connecting with people? I love a variety!

Cha cha, kumbia, foxtrot, jive, swing, tap and tango. I want to take turns street dancing and laugh as we mess up trying. I want to mosh and jump up and down and get out that primal part of us. I want to sway, waltz, contemporary, and interpretive dance sometimes, expressing the artistic and intimate parts of us.

I want to give the floor and watch people do solos, duos, or group numbers of the dance forms they love most. I love learning from tribal, ceremonial, cultural dances. I think they are gorgeous. I don’t mind being an audience member. I don’t always have to be dancing to feel connected or inspired. I want to give standing ovations when others are brave enough to show a layer of their dance.

I want MORE than just the damn electric slide out of most human interactions! Face to face, I’m finding that can be challenging to get out of people.

Are we too preoccupied with what others would think of our secret favorite expressive dancing? Have we been shamed or domesticated to not show any dance that cannot be easily consumed? Are we disconnected from our bodies, so unpracticed dancing that we feel clumsy and frustrated even trying? Do we feel we can only dance in quiet safe places where no one is looking? I have done all of these in various ratios for so long.

It grew old. The electric slide grows old.

How bizarre! I think to myself. I do not know many of you, and yet you dance with/for me in so many different ways. You support from the audience perspective from around the world. You comment and private message pieces of your choreography back to me. I see you. I love you for it. You share so well. You dance so honestly. That is a beautiful thing.

*You see things about me that people I “see” in real life do not.*

So *duh* I think of you. Every single time I write. Before I write. After I’ve written. You show up. You come here.


I don’t know your answers. My heart is softer seeing your views nevertheless.

My claim is that there is so much more to a person than the little shuffle bop or electric slide they portray. I know this. Everyone is so unique. I can see it in peoples eyes.

Maybe they don’t see it in themselves? Maybe they don’t give their own dance the artistic credit it deserves because they think they are born with two left feet? Maybe it’s easier to just assimilate into some group line dance rather than stand out and let the music of each moment guide your personal, individual, unique dance from the heart. I get it.

Either way, this dance of mine today is almost over. I’m thankful. I’m touched. I don’t know why you come, but I hope you stick around.

The music is just getting started.

Keep dancing sweet thing.

Love in.

Love out.


P.s. BONUS CONTENT. This dance video is just *MUAH* I don’t want to ruin your interpretation by inserting why “I” love it… so just sit back, turn the volume up, watch, and let it move you however it wants. It is HONEST dancing done SO well! Enjoy! 💋❤️

Ugh. It’s SO GOOD.

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