A Moment Of Clarity
A few weeks ago, I walked into a traditional dance class for the first time since college. As I entered the studio, I felt a lump of emotions get caught in my throat. I tried to push them down and remind myself, “It’s just a class! Why are you feeling so much?”. We got through the first few exercises, and I channeled my concentration in getting everything “right”. I have a talent for getting in my head, so it was no surprise that it happened that day as well.
Then, we got to improv. The room was dark, the music swelled, and I just cried. At first, I tried to choke it down, but it quickly became clear that that energy could not be re-directed. I kept dancing, the tears poured out, and I stopped trying to hide them.
This experience brought on a moment of clarity on two matters. First, I had been ignoring an appetite for something that makes me feel whole for far too long. Second, ignoring such appetites is detrimental to the way I interact with the world.
Have you ever talked yourself out of taking joy in something because it didn’t seem “serious” or “mature” enough? Or let people in your life convince you that your hobbies were a waste of time? I allowed both things to happen with dance, but these questions can apply to any activity that brings you joy. There seems to be an undefined but universally understood moment in adulthood when it becomes unacceptable to be passionate about anything that is neither profitable nor altruistic. I remember being laughed at by people close to me for continuing to study dance into college. While I didn’t let that stop me completely, I did pull back my outward enthusiasm. I stopped gushing about the shows I was in or the history I was learning. It most likely wasn’t going to make me any money, so why would I, an adult, bother with it?
The takeaway from both my past experiences and most recent class was this: preventing myself from making the space for things that feed my soul has pulled me away from others. Any time we deny ourselves joy for joy’s sake, we place a barrier between ourselves and others. In my opinion, it is worthwhile to risk being seen as silly if it opens up opportunities for genuine connection. So go ahead, dive in. Share your knowledge about the “little” things! The impractical things! The things that are valuable not for the sake of productivity, but in and of themselves. Let’s work on being less bashful about our passions, and instead lean into them. The relationships that follow will be well worth it.