How might anybody ever answer such a question? Well, I am not sure that it can be, but that’s what makes it so interesting to me. A process…ah, yes. Very interesting. This word, process, could be the very base from which we learn to live. Essentially, there is not a process that stands alone. There is nothing that is the result of its own placement, or lone existence. Everything evolves for a reason and from a catalyst of some sort. A dance, if you’ll indulge me, has to take place in order for a movement. To get to point B from point A, it’s not nothing that takes you there. It’s a result of your brain thinking, “Hmm, I wish to move from here…to there.” And then, several (as far as you or I might be concerned) miscellaneous reactions that take place from the depths of the electrons in our brain, our synapses and other brain type chemicals interacting with the nerves and muscles of our body which are supported by our bones. As a result, we find ourselves not miraculously appearing at any destination just because we wish it (we haven’t the power), but we find ourselves miraculously riding on these long, multi-jointed objects we have decided to title as “legs.” Do you see? What happens there is a dance. It’s a tango of several things. It takes two to tango. So perhaps it isn’t a tango, but it’s a whole ballroom of tango dancers. The chemistry of the room is what drives the motive, the directive, and the results.
Planet earth, in the Milky Way galaxy, what is our placement in the universe in which we orbit? We cannot pinpoint our exact destination in space, for as we have learned, space is infinite. It is constantly expanding. The culprit we blame for such expansive activity is named “dark matter.” How convenient, space is dark as well. This substance is an element of which we have no knowledge. It’s a completely new concept and we haven’t the ability to dissect its bodies with our current technology. Space is expanding infinitely at an exponential rate. It seems that every minute gives it more reason to expand, to move further away from itself in all directions. There’s a dance there. Everywhere. A deceased question was this, “Is earth flat or round?” The answer to this question was soon proved to be the latter. Naturally, the assumption was that the surrounding space outside our atmosphere revolves around us. Was this wrong? Could’ve been, for it was later proven that planet Earth was indeed not the center of the universe. It was proven that we orbited the Sun on an elliptical path. So, is it wrong to say that the sun, the other eight planets, and the rest of the galaxy orbit us? No, it is not. Nor is it wrong to state that we, on planet Earth, orbit the Sun, as well as the other planets orbit the sun. Neither of the two statements is wrong because both of these ideas are occurring. We are not the center of the universe, but the Sun does indeed orbit us. But, just as well, we orbit the sun. Jupiter, in its gravitational might, pulls the sun wherever it orbits. As a result, the sun moves the distance of its entire mass in whatever direction Jupiter pulls it. All of the planets have this effect on the sun; just some are more minor than others. What we have here is a dance in the endless, blackened plane of space. The sun is a slut. The planets are the lowly, suitable bachelors that pursue it. The sun, by definition and rank, is the single most important element for life to occur. It is the catalyst. Without it, we’d be nothing. We are the planets; we need the gratification of light. So it is with the sun we dance. We all want the sun. We tug it in all directions, some more than others, but in the end, it is all nine of us that seem to dance with the sun, equally. We orbit the sun, and since space is ever expanding, and since the sun is not an object in mobile stasis (it budges with the gravitational influence of outside forces), it is also orbiting all of us. It is, indeed, a dance.
Somebody who plays an instrument might see the relative dance in a more localized form. When you first pick up a musical instrument, it’s hard work to get to know it. You have to learn about rhythm, notation, pitch, and all other mathematical elements involved. You are experiencing the process of learning how to play the instrument. But what happens when you have figured out your instrument. What happens when you know it like a muscular instinct? Or, when it feels like it takes no brainpower just to come up with a new tune or to repeat an exercise? This feeling, some of you know about this, can only occur when you’ve had enough practice that you don’t have to stop and think about what you are going to do next. You can feel it. You’re fingers dance across the dance floor of the fret board on a guitar, or your breath has effortlessly achieved the angle and pressure to exhale and create music through a horn. It becomes second nature. At this point, you are no longer playing the instrument. No. The instrument now plays you. You are able to allow it to translate your emotions and ideas through the language of sound. It is merrily dancing through the meadows of your conscience, and you are merely the planet that the meadows are on. You can only do this through the practice of the dance. The ability to stop thinking and to allow the actions of your muscles to take on a completely random course is the indication that you have mastered the instrument, but not without the instrument taking hold of you and creating a copy of a certain glimpse inside your mind and portraying it in the language of music in a way that is accurate and displays your passion. That is the master of the dance, an accomplished musician and an accomplished instrument.
Do we see this with art? I believe we do. We see it with everything. Do you drive your car or does it drive you? If you are residing on the former, then ask yourself this. Why don’t you swerve your car into oncoming traffic, into the path of a semi? Because, you know you’ll die, right? If you fully controlled your car, you’d go wherever you wanted, but you don’t. You don’t because you know there are certain repercussions that will come about if you slam at fifty miles an hour into a brick wall. The outside world has an influence on your decision-making. Perhaps it’s not just the fact that you can control the car in relation to its control over you, but you control the car in relation to the control that physical reality has over you. In this case, can we say that religion has the same effect in other circumstances? Absolutely. The same goes for philosophy, history, science. Life, it seems, is a dance. In order for us to be successful, we have to learn how to dance with the element we are striving to master. You must learn where you lead and where it leads. Where you follow and where it follows. You have to learn how to step, hop, shift, turn and spin. It already knows these things, but it needs a mind to apply the steps to. It needs a dance partner. “It” is whatever you want it to be. We can call it pleasure. For what else would we strive for but pleasure? In the end, isn’t everything influenced by pleasure of some sort? What’s love with out pleasure? What’s religion without the thought of a prosperous afterlife? And what’s heaven without pleasure? We’re not hoping to get a room in Heaven so we can help the all mighty manager make an extra buck. We like the idea of comfort, love, whatever our idea of Heaven can offer. How complicated it seems life can be.
The hour is getting late, the beer I’ve had seems to have made me a little tired, and the natural biological clock is kicking in. So with that, I shall say…Goodnight to all. And of course, I must state my usual apology. I’m sorry if you read this for any other reason than that you were bored. I believe this probably makes good literature for the bored, but for anybody seeking a purpose, once again, I am sorry that you had to endure these two and a half pages of crap. It’s just an idea I had after watching a movie, consuming tomatten suppe, and drinking Hefeweizen and pilsner. So learn how to dance, because that’s how you’ll learn to live.
