Dancing Uplifts Body, Mind, and Spirit!

As darkness settled in on this First Friday of October
A part of me wanted to nestle down, stay warm, stay with the familiar
I'd already expressed my passion  and sense of outrage at the injustices of our political system on-line.  Restless, I had a quiet urge to be part of community, of others expressing their passion with music and dance.

    First a trip to Goodwill, looking for fairy wings for my Halloween outfit, but $12 felt excessive, and I chose instead some simple gifts for my two sweet granddaughters.  Maybe I'll make a mask this year instead of buying wings made in China.  The Salmon Festival is a fun autumn celebration for being creative!
     Leaving the low-energy of Goodwill at closing  time,  I drove downtown, too tired to hit the art galleries or negotiate parking on main street.  A band played on A Street, but I wasn't moved.  As I walked about carefully in the growing darkness, I found Jeff and Tom setting up to play nearly, when the other band was done.  A part of me that seldom gets to play is a wild dancing woman.  Nothing is a better antidote to frustrations on the political scene on top of seeing the dentist, the chiropractor and my acupuncturist all in one week, than a chance to dance to the hypnotic beat of a great band.  It's astonishing how grand it feels to dance, and watch a truly remarkable young woman dancer who sure moved to her own sensuous, exotic rhythm, embodying the graceful and uninhibited movements I'd never seen in real life.  She, too, was on he own, needing no partner to let loose, responding to the drums, guitars, and haunting melodies.
      This felt like my modern-day tribe, coming out on a Friday night to express without words our passion, our joy to be alive in this place on this planet.  The night was cool and bright, perfect for this gathering of souls seeking dance and great music to erase the worries of our week.  In olden days in so many cultures, after a week working hard for little or no pay, the common folks took to the streets and danced out of sight of their landlords and others of the uppity classes.
They danced, as we do this night, for the sheer pleasure of movement to music that touches their hearts.  I came home encouraged, refreshed, tired in a good way.  The street dancer in me is still alive and well.  It wasn't a night to browse the art galleries, but to dance with abandon, no agenda but to enjoy the good times still possible, even in  an aging body still eager to express herself!