When in Doubt, Shake it Out

I believe I was born to dance. The other day, my mom and grandma were reminiscing about the days when I was a little girl and their conversation reinstated in me what I have always believed in: dancing. My mom remembered the time when we were taking a stroll on a Marina Del Rey dock and reggae music started to play from a nearby restaurant. Without hesitation, I began to dance. I was only about four years old, but there I was getting down in front of a group of strangers surrounding me, cheering me on. Recalling that day, my grandma told me, “You had such good rhythm. I couldn’t believe it! You danced like it was no big deal, like no one was even watching you.” It may seem silly, but this little event represents an overwhelming part of me. I don’t remember actually doing it, but the thought of it makes me smile. And when I smile it’s because I’m happy. And dancing makes me happy.

Dancing sets me free like nothing else can. It allows me as much freedom as I want. Nobody can take it away because I am in control of every move I make. Dance is more than an art form; it is something I can’t possibly live without. And so I dance daily. When I’m not dancing I’m listening to music on my iPod and visualizing a dance to go with the song. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about dancing and I wouldn’t have it any other way. When my little brother is finished watching Nickelodeon cartoons in our living room, that space becomes my dance floor. I will literally spend hours in my imaginary dance studio even if that means starting my homework a little later than I should.

Some people practice yoga to find inner peace, mental clarity, and emotional balance. How do I achieve those three things? By dancing, of course. There is no better way to express my emotions than through moving my body. When I dance, my body and mind effortlessly intertwine along with the rhythm of the music, the pulse of my blood, and the beat of my heart. I dance when I am happy, excited, sad, stressed, or even angry. These emotions are what make my dancing meaningful and beautiful. I love how my mind has the ability to be completely clear when I dance; everything in my own world becomes uncomplicated. I only think about where I will put my arm next, how I will angle my body, and where I will point my toe. Nothing compares to how I feel when I’m done dancing. Even with my heart racing, my cheeks flushed, and beads of sweat on my lip and back of my neck, I am content. That’s all I can ask for. So I will keep on dancing as long as dancing lives. But dancing will never die. And neither will my passion.