When I was an adolescent I envied the great “ballerinos” among the kids on the block, and pretended I had other things to do at parties – like having a conversation.
But in fact I was terrified of looking ridiculous, and because of that I would not risk a single step.
Until one day a girl called Marcia called out to me in front of everybody:
I said I did not like to dance, but she insisted.
Everyone in the group was looking, and because I was in love (love is capable of so many things!), I could refuse no further.
I did not know how to follow the steps, but Marcia did not stop; she went on dancing as if I were a Rudolf Nureyev.
“Forget the others and pay attention to the bass,” she whispered in my ear. “Try to follow its rhythm.”
At that moment I understood that we do not always have to learn the most important things; they are already part of our nature.
When we become adults, and when we grow old, we need to go on dancing. The rhythm changes, but music is part of life, and dancing is the consequence of letting this rhythm come inside us.
I still dance whenever I can.
With dancing, the spiritual world and the real world manage to co-exist without any conflicts.
As somebody once said, the classic ballerinas are always on tiptoe because they are at the same time touching the earth and reaching the sky.