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Love & Hate of Dancing Rules

So I went salsa dancing again last night. I had fun for the short time I was there, but left early to watch an episode of “The West Wing” with some friends.

Pulling myself out of the dance scene so abruptly (usually I dance all night until the venue closes) made me realize what a complicated and ugly world it can be. Nobody ever talks about the dark side of the dancing world - it’s supposed to be about love and acceptance and expression. Really, though: it’s not.

The dance scene is about one thing: looking good. And for that reason I hate it and I love it.

I hate it because “the rules of looking good” are not fair, not just, and sometimes quite mean. They take into account only a small fraction of who a person is and nothing regarding the beauty of their soul or character. The rules are shallow and unforgiving.

I love the scene though, because (at least in this small town) the rules play in my favor - I can play them and “win”, so to speak. They set me up as a “success” and not as a “failure” and so I can go out and have “fun” when I go dancing.

And I love that. And I hate it.

(I’ll see if I can write soon what my understanding of “the rules” are.)