“Why don’t we all dance? It’s the right thing to do to music.”
It did seem to be, for she put on a record which had the most dancing effect on the feet, even on Petrova’s, which were the least dancing feet in the family. (from Ballet Shoes by Noel Streatfield)
First of all, allow me to confess that I always say “Noel Streatfield,” then spell it tearily, the way Meg Ryan does in You’ve Got Mail. I can’t help it.
I’m pretty sure I have the least dancing feet in any group. The other day, my friend posted a facebook status that worried me: “If you don’t dance, you ain’t no friend of mine.” I really value her friendship, so I was worried about this status. I am really not a dancer. When I tell you I’m a wall flower, I mean it in the sense of floral wallpaper that was hung forty years ago and painted over five times–never coming off.
I think it has to do with me being too self-conscious, too stiff, too worried about how I look. I tried a Body Jam class a couple of years ago and was completely embarrassed. I am pretty sure people behind me were laughing at me. At one point the instructor said, “Everybody has some street in them somewhere. Dig deep and find your street.” I dug deep. And deeper. I found some dirt road. Some cul-de-sac. But no street. My hips were not going to move that way in public. They don’t have it in them.
Don’t feel sorry for me. I’ve made peace with it.
But something happened a couple of weeks ago. My toddler, my heart, compelled the least dancing feet in the world to dance. We were at the local children’s museum in a room called “The Movin’ and Groovin’ Room,” where they play ragtime and your dancing image is mirrored in colorful silhouettes on a big screen. My postpartum silhouette is not inspiring when blown up and made to look rainbow-colored. Just saying. But Benjamin loves that room. And he can’t help but dance. And I peeled my mama hips off of the wall they have been shellacked to for nearly three decades, and joined him. I couldn’t help it.
It was the right thing to do in a curtained room, to ragtime, with the cutest dancing partner ever.