As I turned the corner onto the next aisle at my local grocery store what I saw at the other end of the aisle brought an immediate, big smile.
As their father looked at some items on the shelf two little girls, probably about five and three truly were dancing like nobody was watching.
These two girls looked to be separated in age about the same number of years as my now grown daughters. Seeing them spin and twirl brought back long forgotten memories of my two little ballerinas when they were that age. As I got closer I noticed that the older one was also singing the lyrics to the song that was playing overhead on the store loudspeaker system.
I pulled out my phone and opened up the Shazam app. Shazam notified me that Meghan Trainor was singing, “Like I’m Gonna Lose You.” It was clear that the little girl had heard this song many times before as she nailed every word with Meghan.
You may be wondering how all of this happened in the length of a grocery aisle. I must admit that I stopped so I could watch them a little longer.
Their dad then put a couple of items in his small carry cart and said, “Let’s go girls.” They immediately stopped dancing and singing and came my way. I put the box that I was pretending to look at back on the shelf and headed towards them.
I said to the two little girls, “You girls are really good dancers,” as they passed me.
The oldest looked me right in the eyes and said, “Thank you!”
Then I heard her say to her dad, “That man was REALLY BIG and what he said was REALLY NICE!” The bold and italics are intentional as she she said them with the same passion that she danced.
I picked up my last couple of items and made my way to the check out. The image of the two girls dancing was deeply etched in my mind. Their smiles were of sheer contentment and joy.
As I put my items on the conveyor belt I said “Hello” to Bob after glancing at his name tag at the cash register. “How are you today?” Bob looked to be about my age. He never looked up from the items on the belt as he scanned the few items I had. “I’m okay, I guess,” he said with as little enthusiasm as he could muster.
Walking to the car I was fascinated by the two very distinct scenes I had just observed; two little girls dancing and singing in the aisle and one seemingly lonely man going through the motions of life. Please understand that this is not an indictment on Bob. I have no idea what his day had been like and I’m sure that I have often come across to others just as he did to me that day.
What struck me as I walked to the car was thinking, “What happens to us over the course of our lives that takes us from dancing like no one is watching to going through the motions, heading home, and then coming back the next day and going through the motions again?”
Why do we become so concerned about what others will think when the reality is others probably aren’t thinking of us at all? Why do we worry about embarrassing ourselves when we all embarrass ourselves at one time or another?
As we get older it takes more and more courage to not worry about what others might think or say. Nearly everything in life is a choice. Those things that aren’t choices such as illness or accidents or acts of God still provide us with a choice in how we respond to those setbacks.
Courage is a choice. Stop playing it safe all the time.
What will you do courageously this week? What will you do that is similar to the two little girls who danced like no one was watching?
When you do I’d love to hear about it in the comments below!
Have a STRONG and COURAGEOUS day!
Your story reminds me of this line from Brene Brown’s book, “The Gifts o Imperfection.” She writes, “For many people, risking that kind of public vulnerability is too difficult, so they dance at home only in front of people they care about. For others, the vulnerability is so crushing that they don’t dance at all.” Somehow, somewhere – today, I’m gonna dance!
I LOVED that book!
That quote really sums up my whole blog in just a few words! Thanks for passing those along, Ron. Those words carry a powerful message and lesson!
Good Ron. I have really enjoyed Brene. The quote really speaks to the power of vulnerability that Dave’s blog alludes to. Thanks Dave & Ron.