Shut up and dance with me…

Remember to dance big and twirl lots.

Remember to not care who is watching, spin anyway.

Remember to put your arms up and shake it off.

Remember to laugh and pull strangers out with you.

Remember to remind those young girls to dance to…

Last night after a scrumptious dinner out in perfect weather, we stopped to see some friends. Enjoying a glass of wine with friends in the sunshine and energy of people and music. We sat and laughed and told stories and caught up. All the while a band was setting up and testing lights and microphones and things. Many of the friends and people at this great outdoor space headed to another spot with a different band, but we stayed.

A little white wine and seltzer, lots of laughs and some great music were all we needed that night. I grabbed my lovely Amy’s hand and pulled her out on the dance floor. She doesn’t dance. I couldn’t not. The concrete was empty of dancers, only us, twirling and dancing. Some Lady Gaga covers, Taylor Swift and of course some “Happy”. How does one walk away and not twirl and get sweaty? So we danced, even though we were the only ones, even though we were probably not good at dancing. I only saw smiles and hopped around in my ruffled dress. I felt light and free and happy. I felt bold and brave for going out to dance anyway, no one else really did. Then I remembered who freakin’ cares… dancing makes me happy- alone or together.

Silly or serious, fun or intense… dancing makes me and most happy. I remember dance parties with my girls… nights of twirling and rocking out. I remember the hardest nights of missing Madeline being coated with a ‘Just Dance’ video game party. The night I discovered Matt was in Florida with another girl and he had been very dishonest with me… I was broken. My friends surrounded me, cried with me and picked me up… then at the end of that nightmare of a night Lauren turned on Pharelle’s Happy and told me to dance. Dance the heavy off, at the end of the night just let it go. I didn’t want to dance that night, I didn’t want to twirl, I didn’t want to smile. I wanted to sink away, I wanted to be alone and broken and cry. I wanted to stop moving…

I danced. I was still broken, but I danced. I remember very little of that night, but I remember having to dance. I lived. I grew. I slept… I smiled… I healed.   It started with a dance…

On a sunny and beautiful night in downtown Schenectady, or in a friend’s kitchen cooking and listening to Pitbull Pandora… we dance. We are the only ones who smile and twirl… who hop and shimmy to feel the ruffles move. We pull stranger to dance and smile too… it is what we do. It is what it is about… not caring if we are the only ones, not caring it we look silly… we dance.

I woke light. I woke happy. I woke more healed and more full. Why do I forget to dance more? Why do we forget to bring others into our happy moment? Why don’t we just go dance on the lonely dance floor and not be scared, the payout is high? I wish I always were the girl who twirled and hopped and smiled with no care what anyone thought about it… but alas I had to get to be this person.

I wish sometimes I could have told me back then to dance anyway, heal anyway, forgive anyway… live, breathe, smile, cry, break, heal and grow anyway. I definitely wish I had danced all the time… so… remember this. Dance. Grow. Move. Live. Smile. Cry. Break. Survive. Love. Hurt. Forgive. Twirl…

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