Survival and Swing Dancing

Well, you learn something new every day. Swing dancing is a lot like rollercoasters, I laugh the entire time. I probably danced with every mildly good looking boy there, and that was probably at least 10-15, idk I lost track. Had to go home when I started getting sleepy. Oh my gosh I have to go back. I have never danced intentionally in those styles before, and holy shit I was legitimately good at it. It’s like flirting made art and it is so easily if you just follow what they guy does and improvise the rest. Shit that was fun. I have to go back.

How is it only Tuesday? For real, this is why I hate time as a concept and as a rule. America clings so heavily to time. It corrupts my soul to have to worry about deadlines and pacing and everything else instead of just living my life. I know I can come off as capricious, but whoever gave a shit and also had this much fun? It’s not like I’m burning bridges left and right, I’m just loving my life and milking it for all it’s worth because comparatively, I barely have any time left.

The one thing that makes me most irritated and simultaneously insecure is when my timing is off. Too fast, too slow, too boring, to exciting, whatever the fuck else. I really would like to perpetually give zero fucks about what most of those things look like, maybe I will tomorrow. I’m just really sleepy, and it was totally worth it. I was debating over whether or not to go, but I wanted to even though I knew it could potentially be awkward, and I just accepted making an effort to have fun instead of whine and wait to be asked to dance. Holy hell that was fun. I definitely strutted up to guys and asked to dance. I may or may not have started a small group of single ladies dancing with random pop culture dance moves to swing tracks, and I definitely put my feet on the table and danced with my guy friend from residence hall life while sitting and catching our breath. My man goals were dress to kill and have fun, and I totally nailed it. It was nice to laugh.

Wanting to help, nurture, and give of your time, but not being able to do it until a place/time/state of being/etc. when others comfortable accepting any of the above, now that is the struggle. Or realizing when you shouldn’t be a counselor even though you would literally skip classes if any one of your friends needed serious help. Not hearing from friends? Dear God I hope you are still breathing. What if I know you are struggling and then I don’t hear from you for like 3 weeks?? PANIC. But hey these things ebb and flow, and this panic nonsense is ebbing and flowing itself the hell away.

What about when there is no good advice because until you listen to the advice you’d give yourself, it is all advice you won’t listen to and won’t understand? That one is a daily struggle.

How about when you are impatient not because you genuinely want to be difficult, but because you are scared things will evaporate if you don’t pick at them like cuticles? I don’t know how other ladies do the whole waiting thing, or guys, or really any human. It isn’t that I’m impatient, it’s just that I have so much to share and I move so quickly it can seem crazy if I don’t really focus on the long term, which is so vague when I’m not listening and it can be hard to realize when I’m ignoring the truth. It all splatters itself together like oil paints on a canvas, and it really does its own thing without my intervention, but man, I feel like this semester has been 10 years, and that is so awesome it makes it hard to sit still.

I am still really happy. Thank God. The one thing that doesn’t evaporate is the need to keep moving forward. Some call it motivation, work ethic, hyperactivity, lol lol lol lol lol. I don’t really know what they are trying to diagnose, it seems like a waste of their time more than mine even. Why name it if you can understand it by just letting it be and feeling it? If you can look at another person and understand? It doesn’t have to be nearly this difficult.

I don’t know how being spontaneous, whimsical, emotional as all get out, and genuinely passionate is for most people, it’s not like they tell me. Who even would think about that unless there was some sort of disaster? I’m not sure. To me it’s like a native language. I’m not irresponsible, ask me to plan your wedding and I could do it without any problem twice as fast as you’d like. I could be an EMT and not even blink.

But I could also be on stage. I could also do everything else that comes naturally and get paid for it. I am thankful I don’t have to choose, that I can pull from so many things. But being able to access talents like swing dancing has zero to do with innate abilities, and 100% to do with the need to move forward and the desire to do so without fear or shame. I survived. Merry everyholidayfortherestofyourlife. You made it. End of story. Or better yet, the beginning.


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I am a second-grade teacher and pastor-to-be who loves people. I spend my weekends with friends or wandering the museums of DC alone and with a journal, trying to put words on the places of the soul that still feel wordless. I spent most of my days at school trying to learn patience through my students and running on sheer nerdy passion. I follow Jesus Christ, and savor that as my most important identity--that I am a child of God, as are infinite others, regardless of their other identities. Christ is my one thing.

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