A Joyful Noise

Eight simple steps.  That's what the lady said we'd be learning last night at my inaugural foray into the  surprisingly athletic world of belly dancing.  I'm not usually one to correct people's math, but there is no way that there were only eight steps.  And they certainly weren't simple.

But this is my "Just Say Yes" summer,  so all those mashed-up moves and mixed-up numbers didn't matter in the end.  I was there to dance and that's what I would do, however badly.

The soundtrack to my summer has been one of joyful noise and I can't quite shake that happy tune from my head.  Opening myself up to the innocuous "whatever" has enriched and delighted and stretched me in ways both silly and significant.  From mid-morning movies to Chicago subway rides, cicada searches to belly dancing and late-night sky hunts, this season has been punctuated by moments seized.

Do something slightly out of your routine, though,  and you quickly discover an interesting mix of truth and misconception.  For instance, I have often told myself that I am open-minded and curious about my world.  And, to a certain extent, those things are true.  But I am also a stubborn creature of habit, a lover of early-to-bed routine and uncluttered schedules (or, better yet, no schedule whatsoever). Those ingrained habits sometimes speak louder than my own misconceived notions of self.

I know this because friends have a way of pointing out the obvious, which is why I have been getting a lot of ribbing lately.  Tease me long enough about staying up late or donning form-fitting gypsy clothes, though,  and the scales will eventually start falling from my eyes.

Tease away, I say!  This is my summer of joyful noise, after all, and your words tell me that "Just Say Yes" just may be the most perfect motto ever.

This simple mantra certainly has served me well, even if I'm still a lousy dancer.