So, another thing I use to get out of the dumps is music. Music fills me up in a way nothing else can. Once it’s poured inside me, it has to come out in loud, emotional singing; or in wild, sensual, motion; or preferably, both.
Music can express every possible human emotion. I heard a song (can’t for the life of me remember who did it or what it’s called) that was something about “If I was a song” and how wonderful that would be because you’d live on forever, bringing happiness to so many people. Not the right words, but that was the jist of it.
Dancing around the house by myself is freeing but it’s not enough. I long for live music and to be able to people watch. Ohhhh, people watching… Aren’t we just the darnest things? I’m not making fun, really… I love watching the smiles, the flirting, the bravado.
Dancing is ageless. There’s a young dancer that lives in all of us. I love watching that hidden spirit come out in people – especially in women over 40. When they dance they become a young woman again — sexy, beautiful, fun, and adventurous. It’s the way we are on the inside and should allow ourselves to be on the outside.
I can feel the heat stirring. I need to find someone to go dancing with before I implode. Besides, when I dance at home, Java barks at me. It kind of dampens the whole “aren’t I sexy and daring” feeling I’m trying to put on.