I dance constantly. My hips have a mind of their own. There are times I have found myself thinking about a song or a performance and come to a sudden realization (sometimes prompted by people giving me strange looks) that my hips are moving. Dancing out loud, if you will.
This happened to me once when I was working at a mall kiosk. I was casually pacing while thinking about a performance I had done and how it could be revamped when I noticed that some guys who worked at a nearby store were staring at me. I then realized that my hips were reacting to my thoughts of dancing. I proceeded to casually pace my way over to my cash wrap and start doing some paperwork. “Who me? Dancing? I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
A more recent incident occurred last month while I was visiting my family in Portland, OR. We decided to go to Jam, a popular brunch spot. There was a bit of a wait–45 minutes or so–and no sitting room in the waiting area. So we hung out on the rain drenched street, huddled under the awning, engaging in conversation in front of Jam’s window along with other waiting, rain-soaked people. I was standing with my back against the window, and my hips started doing an alternating hip lift with a double lift every third one. (My hips often start creating patterns when I am waiting for something, especially if I’m cold.) I did this for a few minutes without paying it much attention. I glanced back into the restaurant to realize there was a table right behind me, about eye level with my behind. There I was, shaking my butt in these people’s faces while they were trying to enjoy their blueberry pancakes! Oops.
Similarly, I often break into dance while I am brushing my teeth, cooking , trying to get ready for work… Sometimes, I just can’t hold it in any longer!
Sometimes, like the urge to dance, inspiration comes at inconvenient times. Ideas for blog posts often come to me in the middle of a hectic work deadline and I have to quickly find a pen and paper and frantically try to get it down on paper while it’s fresh. Or sometimes when I’m driving, I’ll suddenly have amazing visions of choreographies and have to frantically jot them down as soon as I stop somewhere. If I wait and try to recall it later when it’s stale and I’m tired, it just never blossoms the same as when the inspiration is fresh.
Belly dance, it’s an addiction.