Shall We Dance?
When I was in college, my friend Heather and I used to go dancing. We’d get all dressed up in our frightful, early nineties color-block dresses, heels—and pantyhose, mind you—and go hit the local club. One night, we were tearing up a crowded dance floor when somehow, I got my feet tangled up (perhaps one drink too many?) and promptly tripped, falling flat on my bum amidst a throng of fellow folks getting their groove on. Unfazed, I simply got up and continued dancing, laughing it off. My friend commented later that she was amazed at my boldness, admitting that, had she done the same, she would have ducked and run, mortified beyond belief. But I just wanted to dance. Dancing was the goal, and my eyes were on the goal.
Oh that we could retain that youthful audacity in the face of life’s trip wires—invisible, self-created or otherwise. Most of us go through life afraid to fail, afraid to attempt something that will not garner praise and accolades from our peers—and, more importantly, from those who are seasoned members of whatever “club” we are wanting to break into—whether it’s writing a book, running a marathon, building a stellar investment portfolio, or knitting a sweater. We want recognition for all our hard work, don’t we? Some validation that yes, we have done this—but not only that, it’s good.
Well, it’s more than probable that I wasn’t the best dancer of my generation, or of that particular dance floor, for that matter. In fact, it’s a 100% certainty. But it didn’t stop me from doing it. I can still dance badly in my living room and somehow, experience the exuberance of having just performed on a stage, in front of an enormous, adoring crowd. Isn’t is a miraculous gift that God gives us, to love ourselves, to love what we do?
I ran across the following question once—I can’t remember where: “What would you attempt for God if you knew you would not fail?”
Indeed. What would you attempt—period—in life, if you knew you would not fail? What would you attempt for God? For others? For yourself? For the world? Sit down and make a list. It might surprise you. Yours might contain silly, frivolous things like, say, changing your hair color. It might be to sing an entire song in front of an audience of people–Or, maybe things like starting a business without fear of failure, donating a large sum of money without fear of financial strain, telling someone you love how you feel without fear of rejection. What would you do if failure was simply not an option?
Is it possible to live our lives with such a mentality? Can we set out to attain our goals and dreams without, ultimately, fear of failure? Most certainly, yes. We can have faith in our abilities, our resources, our resolve. Will those things eliminate failure? No. Failures will always happen. Sometimes we will win and sometimes, we won’t. The difference is what we do with those failures.
As a writer, I have experienced hundreds of failures—some small, some that made me want to haul my computer, all my files and the contents of desk out to the end of the driveway and set it on fire. My latest project was rejected by small press publishers, major publishers, and agents probably close to 100 times—in the form of either no reply, a form letter, or a nice note simply stating “doesn’t suit our needs at this time.” I understand failure. I get it.
But there are some little words hanging out in the back of my mind. They are my dad’s words. I will never forget them, as long as I live. “You’ve got the world by the tail with a downhill drag.” In other words, you’ve got this. You can do this. And it’s going to be easier than you think.
Maybe. But maybe my dad never tried to walk behind a 50 pound dog, pulling a leash ahead of you, down a hill. Sometimes, the darn thing can take on a life of its own, and suddenly—how did this happen, exactly?—it’s pulling you instead of the other way around. Suddenly, your dream has taken the lead. Good—or bad? Well, that depends. If you want a little bit of exercise, a little challenge, keeping up with the dog is great. But if you’re just not in the mood, well, you’re going to feel exactly as you’d suspect: Pulled. Maybe the dog is someone else’s dream and it seriously needs to heel. Going downhill is easier, of course, but if it’s not your dream, then it’s still going to feel like a struggle.
Did I become a dancer? No. Did I enjoy it, on the journey to discovering what I really needed to do in life? Yes. But, if I’d not tried—if I’d lacked the fundamental courage in life to attempt things—to stare down failure in the face and have words with it, I might not have discovered my true talents. They would have stayed back there, a sad heap on a dance floor. I am reminded of one of my dad’s other truisms: “You always were a bit mischievious.” In other words, I have an agenda, and it may or may not fit in with what you want me to do, or even what you believe I am capable of doing. Yes, under this seemingly serious, quiet facade, lies a stubborn, sometimes defiant kid who just wants to dance, dang it. Leave me alone, already!
Nearly everything in life deserves another stab—or two, or three, or a thousand. Pick your dream. Make sure it’s what you want to do. Don’t let anyone tell you no. See it realized, in your mind, and never stray from it. Put God first. He already knows what you were designed to do anyway. If you’re good at something, that probably means he thinks so, too. I believe that everyone is gifted in something. Some of us find out what that something is, and some of us don’t–because we fall and simply give up. You can’t learn how to dance if you give up. The point is this: Jump up and start dancing again. It will prepare you for what is to come.
Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and he will establish your plans. Proverbs 16:3.
In their hearts, humans plan their course, but the Lord established their steps. Proverbs 16:9.
