The title of the sermon last Sunday at my church, MVUUF, was something of dance in spirituality. This meant that I fully intended to actually listen to the sermon that day, and even held out a thin hope that actual dancing would occur (no). The actual sermon hinged on a question attributed to shamans. The context is of people coming to the shaman with a complaint of the spirit, and they would ask, "when did you stop singing? When did you stop dancing? When did you stop laughing?" I think there may have been a fourth question in there, but the sermon focused on the question of dancing.
The minister recounted a Toni Morrison-esque, heady perfumed saga of tai chi and wild rock and roll concert dancing, at half her current age, limbs flailing against the ragged backbeat of the symbol crash. Then as time passed, and concert attending was not as frequent, and the floor space of the home became more occupied, she found herself not dancing any longer. She expressed discomfort with this question of the shamans, "when did you stop dancing?"
I approached her after, and encouraged her to dance again, and offered that you can pull the car out of the garage and dance there. Dancing is an unmatchable experience, frequently spiritual, healing, invigorating. It's also just good to move around, good for your circulation. I also encouraged another member of the congregation, and old woman, to dance to the music she said she listened to all the time. I bounced out, with my daughter, from church, both of us saying "boing boing!"
I took my daughter to story time yesterday, and as we sat, I heard a three or four year old girl say, "I am so ready to dance!" I thought to myself, 'me too!' Except, it's not really my cup of tea, the story time dances. Still, I did them. Me and one mother. Eleven mothers and one other father all sat still, mostly on their phones. When did they stop dancing, if they did at three-four?
Regards,
-Ian Hogan, PhD
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