dancing on a paper boat

The secret is you gotta dance

At every concert I’ve been to recently, I’ve seen someone who is almost cartoonishly into the music.

They sing along to every word, eyes closed and arms flailing. Oblivious to everyone and everything except the music and their own experience.

I desperately envy them.

At a Depeche Mode concert recently, I saw a guy about my age dancing his heart out. Several other people around me clearly though it was comical.

Not me.

In his wild and ecstatic exuberance, I saw someone completely lost in the moment.

While the cynics tried to capture video of him, perhaps to continue their misguided judgement later, the dancer did not even notice.

He did not care for the scorn or the smirks. Not for their very existance in this world. Because for that moment, his whole world was his couple of square feet and the music.

He was purely in the moment.

I looked at him only with joy, admiration, and with a hope that someday that would be me.

Dance, my friend.

Not dance like no one is watching.

Dance like no one watching matters in the least.