I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned dancing to be one of my passions. I’ve talking about writing and singing, but goodness, nothing beats moving to the music and feeling the rhythm in your bones and walking the tightrope of the melody in well measured steps. To me, it’s the superior art form, the place where I feel most at home, and the place where I can glorify God the most.
This was something that was shown to me last year, when I first started school. I hadn’t danced since the seventh grade, and I wasn’t planning on it going into college. I was going to play sports – that was my thing. But then suddenly all I could do was dance, and I fell in love with it all over again. But not just ballet this time, but across all different genres. I learned how to make my body speak, and now I can barely see myself doing anything else.
I mentioned this past weekend briefly, but suffice it to say that there was more there than met the eye (though I’m sure my narrative wasn’t as discreet as I was hoping). But yesterday was a hard day, mostly because he was no longer here with me. And then I found this.
It’s a choreography piece from Urban Dance Camp, the most wonderful place full of talent and fabulous dancers. I almost cried, and even now every time I watch it my heart begins to ache. It’s the combination of music and dance here that really connects with me.
Music is wonderful because at the most important times, it speaks the words that you cannot say yourself. It shows you that you’re not alone, that others can relate to you, that you’re not silly or weird for thinking or feeling a certain way. But then when you put that music to dance… it shows you that you can make something beautiful out of it, this horrible place that you’re in. A light can still shine through the darkness.