Have you ever heard a baby or toddler say, “Oh….I can’t dance”?
Yeah. Me neither. It doesn’t happen.
Our natural compulsion to dance goes back thousands of centuries. It precedes our complex verbal language that now rules supreme. Long before grammar, night clubs, or intricate performances - intuitive dance was our first way to commune, and convene.
Dance is so inherent to our very nature as human beings, but over time - we have forced ourselves out of it. Part of this, I believe, is due to the way it has become art. Which makes me sad, because I am a trained classical dancer.
While there is beauty to be found in the intricacies and traditions of what we now call a “dance form” - its downfall is the strict definition it provides. When you are “learning” dance, you are automatically forced onto a ladder. You start at the bottom, and work your way up through practice and skill.
Fellow dance girlies - you know what I’m talking about. That dreaded, “Who will be in the front for this number?” The “best” placed center-stage, the “worst” are punted to the back. While there is merit to having a healthy sense of competition to motivate - over time, this hierarchy has created an instinctual shut down. We have become conditioned to the belief that we must learn more to dance well. That there are those who can, and the less fortunate - who cannot.
What we forget in this process of “cultivating our craft” - is that we were already born knowing how to move. That movement can be as tiny as nodding your head to a beat you love. Or as big as contorting your body on the ground. Regardless of size, of technical skill, of learned ancient movements - the ability to dance runs through all of our blood.
It kills me (or more accurately: it really pisses me off) that our primitive desire to dance - move our bodies, access this free shot of serotonin - has been repressed over time and observation. We get out of our bodies, into our heads, and think we must master its craft to avoid feeling embarrassed. We think, “They’re better, so let me just stand off to the side.” We think we need Vodka to dance, or the safe cloak of a dark club. We think we need anything beyond just ourselves.
(The absolute WORST piece of marketing I’ve ever seen. Who the F okay’ed this!?)
What we forget about dance is that first and foremost, it’s our connection to self. It’s a way to find our spirits, in our own bodies. If there’s any hierarchy to impose when it comes dance, it’s this: whether you’re “good at dance” is a goal that should be secondary.
The first goal, the true measure of whether you’ve really nailed it, should be how often and unabashedly you do it. In this arena - babies and toddlers are the best dancers in the world. And they can’t pirouette or twerk for jack shit.
The bottom line is - dance provides direct access to our own joy, whether or not anyone sees it. Whether we do it in our kitchens, or on a stage. Dancing is a way to respond to the world around us - a way to express ourselves, a way to be silly, a way to feel.
Choreography is separate for our mammalian desire to move, and shake. It is ancestral. It did not skip you. But nice try ;)
So what if you did try? Let those Christmas jingles really move you? Literally, just start swaying side to side?
Start in the shower, start in your kitchen, start at the grocery store, goddammit.
Listen, when your body tells you it wants to move.
Here I am, a full-fledged “dancer.”
Jamming the f*ck out, without "form."
At my favorite ramen spot in downtown Chicago.