Dancing in the Dark and Letting in the Light

One of the reasons I love to go out dancing is because it's relatively dark. There are so many times I've gone out dancing looking really, really bad because of my intense role as a caregiver for such a long time. Puffy eyed, miserable, crying there and back and definitely chronically sleep deprived doesn't make for looking gorgeous. But I would go because dancing means so much to me. Last night was no different. I'm always so tense as I drive there. My car isn't in great shape, and I usually don't have too much money. But, as always, as soon as I open the door, everything changes. I hear the music, see the smiling faces and I'm devoured by its joy and beauty. Everything else fades from my mind. I have some kind of "teen age" energy when it comes to dancing and I feel powerful, sensual and vibrantly alive. The other thing I realized last night while dancing is how "centering" it is. To be a good dancer (which I like to be) you have to be really centered. Posture is very important in dancing and can make the difference between a good dancer and a great one. This good posture really aligns the body in a healthy way and enables a person to move better, with more fluidity, grace and control. I just love it! Having spent so much time being tossed and blown by my daughter's illness and recovery and basically by life itself, being centered is very helpful for me. I also find that within the darkness of a dance club, there is so much light. Another paradox. The darkness if filled with the light of music, rhythm and joy. Like the stars that fill the night sky or the yin/yang symbol of light within darkness and darkness within light. Like a candle that burns in the darkness. Sometimes I wonder where do the darkness and light meet each other? At what point, in what place does the light of the candle meet the surrounding darkness? Where does the darkness take on the light of the candle? Good questions!