While driving down a super, busy street (Mack Hatcher here in Franklin), I passed a man who was out for his daily walk. But he wasn’t just walking.
When he got ready to leave the house this morning, he chose his favorite yellow ball cap, white cut-off sleeved t-shirt, and jogging shorts. He put on his headphones, attached not to an iPod, but a bulky CD player, and threw in his happy music. I knew it was happy music because he wasn’t just walking, this guy was dancing as he walked. He had arm gestures and everything. He twirled, gestured, back-stepped, and bounced, almost like he was two-steppin while moving forward. It was awesome. It was joyful. And it was uninhibited. I couldn’t take my eyes of the guy in my rear-view mirror as I passed him.
I want to be like the dancing guy. I want to put on my happy music and dance while I walk. But somewhere down the line, I learned that people laugh at people like that. People point fingers and stare at people like that. But, sadly, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen a guy who looked happier and more confident than the dancing guy. And he made me smile. People who just walk or jog down the street don’t make me smile. But I smiled because I was proud that there is still someone left in this world that lives out of his heart, and isn’t controlled by fear of what people might think about him. Because that is truly how I want to live, regardless of how few examples I might have.
Dance even though no one hears the music in your heart.