I was with a friend who is a professional dancer. Daisy is trained to dance for a living.
We met in a dance studio where she practices. Somehow, our conversation led to a
contest, in order to ascertain who could dance better. Note that I am not trained to dance. My
own definition of dance is simply the movement of my body to the sounds and rhythms of
music.
We got the sound systems working and graced the dance floor. In response to the call
from the words and blares of the speaker, we moved our bodies. I was passionate to be reckoned
the best by the people present, so I never cared if I was over-stretching my limits or not. Shortly
after, I got distracted by her moves, and steadily I came to a halt just to take in all that she was
exuding. All I saw was poetry; words without sounds or dictions. Her every curve, every bend,
every twist was a line to heed: and like every poem, it needed my rapt attention to really
understand what she was saying.
She danced without exuding excessive energy; at least when compared to what I was
doing. She wasn’t just trying to impress; her every move was informed by an understanding. All
she did in motion was intentional and for a purpose. I could not help but stop and gaze. She was
stunned at my sudden pause and long gaze; she stopped with laughter. ‘Why are you not dancing
anymore and just looking at me that way?’ she said in between spurts of chuckles and giggles.
‘I am carried away by the way you are dancing to this music’, I said.
‘What about my moves are you drawn to?”, she said.
‘You seem not just to be dancing to the sound. I see you speaking with every move you
make’.
‘My dear, I was trained to do this’.
This is where the difference is.
Dance, like mirrors, can be obtained from various resources. That goes to say everyone
can dance, just like we can use our phone screens to look at our faces or even use the surface of
a river. But that which most appeals to us—and is desirable—is the resource which was carved
out to serve just the purposes; entertainment, poetry, and reflection. We get the finest results
from the premium resources; in this case, trained dancers like Daisy and mirrors carefully
designed and encased.
This is also what writing is like. Anyone can draw a mark on the earth or on the rocks to
communicate a message but not everyone leaves a message that must be heeded. Writers who are
trained to write, communicate effectively and efficiently; everyone who encounters their works
stops to read and get the message they are putting across.
Trained writers, musicians, dancers, and crafted mirrors serve maximally compared to
their easily obtainable alternatives. Such folks, like Daisy, are economical with their
resourcefulness; they know when and when not to use the contents of their toolbox. They use
what they have in ways that wastefulness is done away with. Nothing in their skillset just goes out
for use without a need for it. Hence when you see works produced by these trained folks your
mind is blown away by the wonders you get to see.
Daisy is not just being a dancer; she is having something to say by the way she twists,
bend, curve, stretch, and name it. And like a trained writer or carved mirrors, she speaks
distinctly, passionately, effectively; and even so, gracefully. Here lies the difference between the
rest of us who just move our bodies in response to sound and write because we have learnt to
hold a pen and write anything.
It can be noted by hyperlinking it to the website name of the source: Dance Informa.
Brief Author Bio: Brief bio:
Tongjal Wungakha Nungbulla is a freelance writer. He lives in Jos. He writes a weekly newsletter called Random Despatches. He loves reading, conversing and writing letters.
