In my dreams I am an amazing dancer and singer come to that( hey it’s my dream, I can imagine whatever I like!). My body grooves to the music’s rhythm and I share the spotlight and choreography with the likes of Madonna and Lady Antebellum (now there’s an odd pairing) . Madonna in the days before she decided to show us all what she was made of… literally.
This imagining doesn’t only happen at home, sometimes when I am in church and the music plays I daydream I am a ballerina pirouetting gracefully with a ribbon around the room.
Unfortunately the dream ends there. I’d like to say I was graceful in real life, I really would but picture a clumsy elephant with ballet shoes and you’d be more accurate. This smarts somewhat. I so want to be lithe and graceful.
But…. I have a secret. When the mood takes me, mostly in the mornings in the kitchen when breakfast radio plays (Chris Evans radio 2) I dance. Hilariously. Stupidly. I make my limbs contort in ways they never thought possible and do you know what ? It’s fun. Each time I do this dance I seek to excel in my silliness. It’s freeing. I have been known to do this dance in front of family who are sworn to eternal secrecy, but it’s okay , I have enough embarrassing info on them.
I very rarely dance in real life situations where there are other people. I can’t think of anything worse, than to willingly put myself on show and let them see me. I try to hide as much as I can in real life but people have gotten wise to this now though so I don’t get away with it as much.
When I was younger and school discos came around they were a complete nightmare. The horror of having to choose an outfit. I really shouldn’t be allowed to go clothes shopping alone. I have no photos thankfully but if you want to picture the horror imagine a 13-year-old dressed in a turquoise granddad shirt worn with turquoise leggings and (I’m cringing now) turquoise high heels. I can only plead insanity and in mitigation I was a teenager in the 80’s. Thank goodness I grew up before the likes of social media and Instagram.
Once the outfit was selected there was the disco to be endured. The stepping side to side with a group of friends to the music, knowing no one would ask you to dance, well, no one you liked anyway, the cluster of popular girls watching your unfortunate attempts to have any sort of rhythm and laughing about it. Don’t even get me started on the obligatory final slow dance. Oh the relief when year 6 came around and I could help out with running the dance and not have to attend it.
So today when I dance, I dance in defiance. To mentally thumb my nose at those mean girls.
Do you know what? Being silly is good for your soul. Invariably silliness leads to laughter and the bible says “A merry heart does good like medicine, but a broken spirit dries the bones” (Prov17:22). We live in such stressful times we have to look for opportunities to free ourselves from the shackles of life.
I don’t stop my silliness at dancing. Sometimes my eldest daughter and I gallop down the street a la Miranda, sometimes I run on the beach with my littlies, sometimes we sing stupid songs in the car or attempt to take on all the harmonies of Les Mis on our own.
My husband and I went into a department store the other day and tried on all the hats. It was silly and hilarious. I loved it, planning on doing it again some time.
Another time we went round town pretending we had won the lottery and announced in every shop in loud voices what we were going to buy and where in our fabulously stupendous house it was going to go.
Just a side note to friends who may be worried I’ll break into silliness and embarrass them,usually I have my silliness under control, it doesn’t often slip out when it shouldn’t so you are fine to associate with me honestly.
Your idea of silliness may be different to mine and that’s ok. Whatever it is , spend five minutes of each day in slight defiance. Kick the rustly leaves, yell bogies in a crowd, try on silly hats . It’s fabulously good for you.
Now where did I leave that mixed tape?