Dance.

Sometimes there are days when we avoid it. It’s easier to stay under the covers, cozy and safe.

Other times we’re forced into it, and we do our best to put on a good show. We know others expect it of us, and we know they’re watching with critical eyes. We don’t want to let them down.

There are days when I imagine my life being illuminated by it. Some days it’s exciting; most days it’s simply an entertaining yet exhausting notion, and I leave it at that.

It has made millions intent on being in the middle of it wealthy. It has lined the pockets of others who have stumbled carelessly into it, but they sometimes find themselves none the richer because of circumstance, being taken advantage of and because their desires may have been slightly misguided.

In it, some showcase their talent brilliantly. Others who aren’t in it on a daily basis muster the courage to perform when called upon, but are happy to return to their existence characterized by the comforting, dull sheen of ordinary when the lights fade.

Sometimes the performance is genuine. Other times it’s half-hearted and a means to an end.

It asks us what our preference is: celebrity or simple life? Masses or mini gatherings?

The spotlight is an odd thing. Sometimes we seek it out, other times it seems as though it’s mercilessly thrust upon us.

But there’s only one thing to do when we find ourselves in its brightness:

Dance.

Tonight I am thankful for being occasionally forced out of my box of quiet comforts and calm moments. It teaches me something new every time and affirms that although it may not be my nature, embracing the dance will lead to other steps I never before thought possible to take.

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