It’s a dark night in the heat of summer. The humidity of August clings to your hair. The music is loud, the dance floor is full. Salsa, bachata, cha cha, merengue. Maybe you don’t understand the words but your soul feels the music. Your feet hurt and you’re dripping with sweat as you dance with the next partner. Your feet connect with the ground, your body connects with the music, your spirit connects with the heavens. Joy. Desire. Hunger. Pain. Sorrow. Hope. The energy moves through you, out into the night.
You experience your wildness, your human nature. You come to experience the glory of your human body: the grace, the power, the sweat, the pain, the music flowing through you. You come to experience the glory of your divinity: joy, connection, the music flowing through you. You come to remember who you really are. Beautifully, messily human. Beautifully divine spirit.
We all have our own reasons for being here.
When I was going through some career counseling several years ago, it was suggested that I ask my parents what I wanted to be when I grew up as a child. I remember my mother’s answer: “you only wanted to dance.”
What I actually did was go for what society was telling me I ought to be: a successful career woman in the corporate world. I went to college and my degree in Psychology got me administrative assistant jobs. I went back to school and a degree in computer science and embraced my career as a programmer and then manager in an orderly, logical, and safe world. My anxiety was soothed by the logic of communicating with computers. My security ensured by my corporate employer. My career has served me well.
Until the soul of the little girl who wanted to dance cried out for something more. The little girl who remembered that my true self is not orderly or logical. She knew that my true self is messy and chaotic, emotional and intuitive, creative. I had embraced a definition of success that was not my own. I had embraced the masculine part of myself and left behind my divine feminine self.
I’ve done a lot of healing work, embracing the wisdom of the child who remembered who I really am. And in that process, I’ve come back to the dance. Salsa and latin dancing found me and has been a vehicle for embracing my wild spirit. I dance to connect with my humanity and my divinity, to experience joy, and, in those perfect moments, to be who I really am, my most authentic self, who I want to present to the world.
I’m still trying to figure out exactly what I want to be when I grow up, the perfect marriage of masculine and feminine power, embracing the creative, intuitive as well as logical parts of my being.
And so I dance.