He danced and jumped as if no one else was there. The crowd cheered him on. Dancing with all his might, he jumped and gyrated to the most unlikely of music. I imagined him swatting a swarm of angry hornets. His dance expression had a rhythm all of its own, but that didn’t matter. He was only aware of the music and how it affected him.
I was reminded of something I know deep in my heart but often forget. Utmost importance, set the stage.
About two weeks before Thanksgiving, a switch clicks on and my wife goes into a cooking frenzy. I have considered putting a cot in front of the stove.
She has this list that is imperative— SHE MUST COOK —the list came down with Moses off of Mount Sinai. Though I do question it because it has a ham on it. I have tried to talk her out of cooking to feed an army. If nothing else for her sanity and mine.
Pies, cakes, desserts, casseroles are seen leaving the oven and spreading their mouth-watering smells around the house. I usually gain five pounds before the big day. Between licking bowls and sneaking a morsel or two. Well five pounds is an exaggeration.
By the end of Black Friday, Mi Amore is totally exhausted. She may not get up for the pre-opening lines, but she will shop. Collapsing when she gets home, She looks like a marathon runner crossing the finish line. I am exhausted from watching her. We are both ready for some downtime.
To recuperate, the last two or three years we have went to Busch Gardens Williamsburg for the first weekend of Christmas Town. BGW is about an hour’s drive up I-64 west.
An already beautiful theme park with all the beautiful flowers, plants and trees, the added 8,000,000 lights, the park decorated all Christmasy, it is especially beautiful at this time of the year.
After about 14000 steps up and down the hill of Busch Gardens according to my LG Health App, we saw the many colored lights, the sights, the shows, an-n-n-nd our first non-Thanksgiving meal in two days, Kathy and I left the last show of the night. Peace and calm restored, we were ready for the trek home.
We casually walked toward the exit stopping for some selfies along the way. Made that last left turn toward England, the theme not the country.
At the center of England is an open plaza with a clock tower. Heavily decorated, the white lights lighting up the whole area like a ball field.
Near the clock was a quartet of two men and two women dressed in apparel from the Charles Dickens classic, “A Christmas Carol”. The group was singing acapella Christmas Carols from that era. A good size crowd had gathered to listen to the singing.
Kathy asked me if I wanted to stop and listen for few minutes. I said, “Sure.” I was in no hurry.
As we circled the crowd to find a good opening to see, we spotted him dancing right in front of the singers. He was about 2 1/2 to 3 feet tall, big brown eyes, jet black hair. No, he was not a vertically challenged adult. He was probably 4 years old. A cute little preschooler dancing with all his might, arms flailing, legs kicking. The crowd cheering him on, yet he did not seem to notice. The singers were smiling, almost unable to maintain their composure. He was too busy getting into the music.
This little fellow was dancing to a beat all of his own. Let’s be serious. Hark the Herald Angels is not generally choice dance music. This guy did not notice or care.
I smiled to myself as I watched him fearlessly, unapologetically, dance his heart out.
He reminded me that life is too short to care what the crowd thinks. Dance, rejoice and enjoy life before it is over. How much of our time is wasted on fretting about what everyone else thinks? Especially, when we step out into the open and start dancing.
Dancing is a great metaphor for the awkwardness we feel when thrusting out in the public and sharing our talents or ideas. Dancing could be revealing our hidden talent or passion.
How often do people look back and regret not taking a risk and sharing their gifts, their talent, their skills, their personal genius with the world?
Fear of what others think often halts us from pursuing out passions. Dancing could be stepping out and letting our voice be heard in writing, music, art, or starting a new unproven business venture.
Every great innovation usually goes through the crucible before it is accepted and catches fire.
The naysayers and critics come out of the wood work when you go public with something new or different.
I have watched YouTube videos of extremely talented people sharing their music or singing. They could have the voice of an Angel or musical talents of a Mozart. Yet they have a certain percentage of trolls who give them a thumbs down or write scathing comments.
The world is filled with trolls hidden, waiting to come out and tear you down.
I am not talking about constructive criticism. Constructive criticism is not meant to stop you. It is meant to make you better.
Trolls are out to stop you.
Thanks to that unnamed preschooler, my fingers are encouraged to dance on the keyboard. Sometimes out of beat and all thumbs. Other times my fingers hit the beat.
Just jump up and dance like nobodies looking. Life is too short to let the crowd stop you from dancing.