Trust Your Passion

I have one regret from my past, and that is that I never learned to dance. I was much too shy and far too self-conscious to surrender my body to the music or to itself. Making a fool of myself was my greatest terror, so I didn’t frequent parties much when I was young. Dancing requires a certain amount of trust—trusting your body, trusting your feelings, trusting the mood and the spirit to guide you and not betray you, and I simply lacked that kind of trust. But all of that changed the other night.

The occasion was a party celebrating my daughter’s rites of passage party celebrating her transition into her teenage years. I danced the night away. It was my daughter’s party, but her mother was the one who returned home delirious with joy. Amazing how quickly the body, after a few false steps, recalls old dance steps (the bop, cool jerk, the swim) and how quickly new steps (e.g., the cha-cha slide) catch on when you surrender to the moment. My daughter hid her face behind her hands most of the night (as teens are wont to do) at the sight of her mother and her mother’s friends laughing and showing off a few “old-school” moves. A month ago the look on my daughter’s face might have gotten me to step out of the soul train line and act my age. But that was a month ago.

Ten minutes into the party I realized that I missed having fun. It’s been decades since I threw caution to the wind and let the passion rip. It was time to dance in public. No more caring how my body looked out on a dance floor. My daughter wasn’t the only one beginning a new chapter in her life. I too am changing. Thank God. Dancing was my way to express all the passion and gratitude that I felt at that moment.

Who wants to serve a God that doesn’t make you want to dance from time to time? There is a saying, “religion is not to be believed, it is to be danced.” After all the dogma, precept, rules, and creeds that formal religion stuffs down your throat, it all gets down to one question: What are you feeling? What does your gut tell you? What do you keep hearing down in your soul? What do you want to do so much that you’re willing to throw caution to the wind and make a fool of yourself if necessary to achieve it. Go with that. Trust God. Trust your passion. Move your feet. Reach for your tambourine, like the prophet Miriam, and start dancing. Who knows? There’s apt to be others moved by your exuberance and abandon enough to get up and join in. But if not, who cares? It’s now or never.

 

Renita J. Weems, Ph.D.