Dancing My Legit Edge

A good friend of mine celebrated his birthday yesterday. (of course, “yesterday in this article only means the day before I wrote it and not the day before you read it) it was really cool for a come-chop-and-dance-if-you-know-how-to-or-not event. My friends and I got there on time and realised a number of people had been there a while longer. We got right down to the food because when it comes to birthdays people think of 2 things; food and hangout! As expected, there were many, “long time no see”, “where have you been?”, “na wa for you oh” and “guess we’ll see at the next party”.


The food was great even though my hungry state wouldn’t allow my glands work at optimum but no one was complaining. I drank a bottle of Schweppes and it was time to hit the dance floor. Other dancers were already getting sweaty and I worked my joints to meet up with the moisture level forming on everyone. As we all moved to the rhythm, I realised that every time I went for a party or hung out with friends and we danced we always got excited and very chatty. I figure, dancing brings out the “joy” in everyone! So I danced and laughed and talked and joked and even poked one or two people here and there. I was having fun.

I remember when I started really dancing and earned the term “dancer”. It was 1996 and I was home from boarding school and my teenage club was preparing for some camp and dancing was one of the activities. I had to sign up for something and singing was compulsory for all which left dancing and acting for me to choose from. I choose to dance and found out I was quite good at it, so I danced my heart out. Over the next 10 years I danced religiously at every instance the chance presented itself. I taught people to dance and I even wrote poetry on dance, I loved dance; the concept and the way it made me feel.

I generally felt I wasn’t very good with people (which is simply paranoia) but being a dancer gave me a clean bill on friendship for a lot of people. Let’s say it bought me popularity. I’m not much of a talker and I think I’m going more quite by the day but dancing was my way out. Because of my introverted personality I bottled up things and ignored others then transported all of my pent up emotions into my passion on a dance stage. So for 10years I moved to all kinds of rhythm, relishing the moment and enjoying the popularity. Although, a lot of times people still paused for a brief moment before they recognised me as the “dancer” as well as the more reserved one. (Okay, honestly, a number of people took the quiet side for many different things other than reserved.)

Dancing for me was the next thing to religion I had. (i spend hours watching "So You Think You Can Dance" and "Got To Dance") People get hooked on drugs or lost in a book but I chose dance, I was absolutely comfortable in it, it was my get away and connection to the social world. So, apart from learning to act right, dress right and talk right, I danced right too. It was the rhythm, it was the words, it was the moment . . . it became me. The rhythm was the fusion of the music and my soul controlling my body and after days of rehearsals it became pure bliss to allow what my body had mastered take over my body and master it. I didn’t have to count the steps and turns it just came together and became the rhythmic beat that rhymed with my hearts pleasure and I just moved. The words usually helped to bring the idea together and that was always fun considering that some words cannot be described by rhythm. It was the theme that usually pulled us to a song and despite its lousy beats sometimes we’ll make it work. The moment happens twice; when you know you have to dance to this particular song and when you dance to it. The knowing is the intriguing part. Unconsciously, your body just moves to the song and you begin to map out an idea and steps to accompany it. But nothing beats the stage; it’s the grand moment of “lights, camera, and action” but here you do not hear cut until the song is done (or the light trips). It’s the moment of abandon where everything comes together in rhythm, words, movement, heartbeats and passion. The energy cannot be measured because it is lost in the desire to let the dance out. To dance completely is to let the dance take over, control here is the enemy. Rehearsal is meant to allow your body master the dance but the performance is for the dance to master the body.

I’ve retired into more administrative positions when it comes to dance but nothing has ever consumed me more in activity as the calculated movements to a selected song or rhythm. The pleasure of feeling the blood pump into your ears and your heartbeat racing as you work every inch of your body into contorted positions was my bliss at a time. Now, I just twitch and have mini fits of spasm when I watch other people dance, or just wait for a friend’s birthday party to attend.

I probably won’t figure out why people must chatter and laugh when they dance (not on stage this time) but I can ascribe it to the exhilarating/heady feeling that comes with shaking your body in all kinds of ways or the increased beat of your heart and the blood rush of excitement. I’ll recommend dancing as an alternative for any negative addiction but that’s me.

I love to dance; I guess that will never change. I love what dancing did for me and that’s what writing is doing for me now. Something always causes the blood to rush and the invisible hairs to stand: find it and make the best of it, there’s no feeling like a “can do” one.


p.s
dancing for me probably was my high and it still is to an extent, find something to make you chatter and laugh and get giggly in abandon but let it be something a priest won’t have to hear in a confession booth. Make your life exciting, find your legit edge.

this is for my friends who love dance as much as I do or even more; Mima (KrumpStudios), Ibrahim (WordDance), Lisfy, Seun, Patox. . .