I came across the dancing Nana on Facebook a couple of months ago. She is a lady with attitude. A lady without a care in the world (though Alzheimer's may be a contributing factor in that!). On bad days (of which I have plenty) I listen to music as a way of coping. I can get lost in the lyrics or the beat or the memories a song invokes. I can transport myself out of the cesspool I am in and to another place. I find great solace in music.
Dance, for me, is a physical expression of mood. A physical expression of what's going on inside. I dance all the time. In the shower, in the kitchen, while hanging the washing, when walking down the street, while waiting in line, at my desk, in the hallway, in the car - you name it!
A dear friend asked me on the weekend what I really wanted to do growing up. When I was a kid, all I wanted was to be a mother. As a teen I wanted to do medicine but the thought of dealing with cadavers was unimaginabe. As an early adult I would have loved to be a teacher. I stumbled into a science degree and, while I love it, it did not provide me with the stimulation I required. I love working in IT. I love that (with time and money) anything is possible. But if I could be paid to do anything I wanted, I would choose to dance. Realism kicks in and I accept that I have no skills in that area, only a passion. I am too old to be clinically trained in dance and too uncoordinated to learn new tricks (plus, I don't have the strength, the fitness, the flexibility or the stamina). But, in a Utopian society, I would choose to dance.
For now, I will have to be content to dance up a storm for the pure enjoyment of it. Like our gorgeous YouTube Nana so eloquently puts it "I could dance all fucking day".
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