Life Is a Dance Everyone Needs to Feel Comfortable in Joining

When I was a boy, all I wanted to do was dance. And I had no fear in doing so. I'd dance in the morning, I'd dance at night, I'd dance inside, I'd dance outside. It didn't matter — and it's all I cared to do. Then I grew up, which doesn't always mean growth. And I started to take notice of all the other people on the dance floor. Tall, short, skinny, fat — it didn't matter. None of them really were, but they all felt more beautiful to me than I did to myself. And so I took my leave. I went to the corner and started watching everybody else have a good time. I started feeling undeserving. I started feeling foolish — more and more so, the longer I sat there and watched. The real fools of this world, however, aren't the ones who continue to dance. They are the ones who forget how to. And for me, knowing this isn't as deep as it is debilitating.