Moojinorbit

Dancing.
I’d forgotten about dancing in the middle of my slow-motion midlife crisis.
Hadn’t danced for too long; that was the problem. Harmful, unhealthy disconnection from the dance floor.

But yesterday I found my way back–even if the dance floor happened to be the hardwoods in my home, and there were no disco balls (though the light did look a little odd with the sleet coming down at about 4:30), and I was the only person at the dance party.

Yeah, pretty much: Solo 1-hour Dance Party at Home!
The cats were not amused, but I was.

I needed exercise, and it was after my allotted gym hours (I pay a reduced rate at school in exchange for reduced gym hours), and it was starting to sleet/snow so I wasn’t going outside. So first I turned on Channel 222, FitTV, and did some calisthenics with some guy named Gilaud and his pretty entourage on some fake lawn in Hawaii. But I did it with the TV sound muted and my own music blasting from the stereo. Did a bunch of squats and ab work and whatnot for a half-hour, and when that was over just started bouncing my ass all over the house. Total ridiculousness. I tried all kinds of moves and hip hop footwork to keep my heart rate up, and then worked out a super-slowmo number to “Shake Yer Tailfeather”. Caught a couple glimpses of myself in the mirror and saw a sweaty 41 year-old with silver hair and laughed. Stopped taking myself so seriously and just danced.

It made me remember where my joy was, and my heart, and my giggles. I remembered that my hips have some good moves and that it feels great just moving the air around with your arms.

Highly recommended. I think I want to take a Burlesque class.