Sunday, April 3, 2011

Just Dance: The Ultimate Humility Project

I am thinking about writing a screenplay about my life. It won't be a big deal or anything. Yes, obviously there is a lot of depth to my life. I mean one could learn so much from my short 19 years thus far. Unfortunately, I will have to exclude some parts because I don't want to overwhelm anyone or anything. I am thinking about making it a trilogy. People like those, right?
Anyway, the first movie will all come down to one of the most defining moments of my life. The movie will be building up the anticipation all for this one moment, this very simple, but very important moment that possibly has changed my life forever.

The first day I played Just Dance.

Now let me give some background information, which will obviously be included in the movie:
God did not bless me with graceful feet and poise. God did not bless me with rhythm. And I know that. I don't try to make excuses or anything because I know in my heart of hearts I have no hope of being the best dancer. You want to see a show, go to a Zumba class and watch me try to keep up. You want to see an even better show, go to a Hip Hop dance class and watch me try to get down. I always throw out disclaimers in those classes. "Watch out white girl with size 11 feet trying to dance!" And I feel like I would always say that jokingly. I knew I was by no means the best dancer, but I didn't think I was the worst dancer in the world.

That changed the night I played Just Dance.

I was ready, I was pumped. Even people who can't dance can Just Dance. I was ready to make myself feel like an adequate dancer. I wanted that confirmation from Just Dance. Big mistake.
As I danced I saw the OKs flash across the screen.Ok. Ok. Ok. Ok. Ok. Ok.
I mean that already told me what I already knew. I am not the best dancer, but I am not the worst dancer, right? Wrong. Turns out Ok on just dance is like the outfielder in little league baseball. Let me explain myself. Your coach is not going to tell you, that you are bad. They are going to talk up outfield. Tell you that you are the only one fit to catch those fly balls. Nobody can catch those fly balls like you. Translation: Nobody can do that like you because little kids do not hit fly balls in little league. Everyone knows they put the worst kids on the team in outfield (For reference, I was played left field in softball. I was "that" girl) Just Dance didn't really want me to feel bad about myself. Instead of telling me that I was just plain bad, they softened the load with an ok. They put me in the outfield. Well let me tell you something Just Dance, I am 19 years old, a form left fielder, and I am not deceived by your tricks.

Well I was determined to improve. I am a high-achiever. I was not going to be ok. A simple good would do, an excellent, even better. Well I only got worse. As my peers around me completed scores of excellents, I only got worse and came in dead last each time. What a fool I was. I tried to blame the controller one round. You see, it didn't have a back. Well the next round the person with that controller one, so I had no excuse. I was crushed each round. Dead last. And that is when it hit me. The humble pie was sitting right in front of me. Calling to me. I did not want that humble pie. I wanted it to be for someone else, but it wasn't, it was just for me. And I love pie, so I had to give in. And there was a message in that pie. Definitely from God. He said to me "Daughter, you are not just a bad dancer, you are the worst dancer in the world, and there is nothing wrong with that. I love you just as you are. No rhythm and all."
And if God can love the worst dancer in the universe, I know he is all good.

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