Happy Dance

“We wouldn’t ask why a rose, that grew from the concrete, has damaged petals, in turn we would celebrate its tenacity, we would all love its will to reach the sun, well, we are the roses, this is the concrete and these are my damaged petals, don’t ask me why, thank God and ask me how.” ~Tupac Shakur, American rap artist (1971-1996)

It was the middle of a Thursday morning and I found myself at my desktop computer grinding away at a document that needed to be out by lunch time. There are those times when words and expressions seem to flow effortlessly, but this was not one of those times. I found myself deleting more than I was writing; the words I needed seemed to be just beyond my reach. I knew they existed, but I just could not find them. 

The page was filled with four incomplete paragraphs and I was in the middle of starting a fifth when a noise from somewhere down the hallway distracted my struggling attention span. 

A moment later I recognized the noise. It was Renita, a member of the parish capital campaign staff. What had started as a “Woohoo!” was escalating into a series inexplicably gleeful sounds.  

Suddenly she appeared in my doorway. “We just got a $100,000 pledge!” she shouted. In an instant she threw her arms in the air and began gyrating. As she did so she repeated two words: “Happy dance, happy dance.”  

This was not the first time I had experienced this type of display. Renita’s island heritage made her particularly susceptible to spontaneous fits of celebration. She finished her impromptu choreography and stood there grinning at me. I’m sure my expressionless face spoke volumes. 

“Aren’t you going to happy dance with me?” she asked. “I’m a fifty-something, white male from back East,” I responded. “I don’t ‘happy dance.’” “Well you need to get yourself one,” she fired back. And with that she continued down the hall doing what looked like a cha-cha step, repeatedly exclaiming, “Happy dance!”  

I smiled to myself although I would never have admitted it to anyone. 

Returning to my document, I began to notice connections between my disjointed paragraphs. Slowly things began to flow: additions here, deletions there, some connecting explanations and paragraph rearrangement, etc. By 11:45 am I found myself putting the finishing touches on what had become a very acceptable piece of work. 

Carefully, I saved the document, tapped out a quick email, inserted the appropriate addresses, and attached the document. My hand on the wireless mouse, I pointed at the SEND box. I hesitated for only a moment, and then, with gusto, I “left clicked,” sending the email, document and all, off into cyberspace. 

Then listening intently, I made sure I heard no one in the hall. Then I rose from my chair and did a private impromptu jig whispering to myself, “Happy dance.” 

Joy is one of God’s greatest gifts and we seem to be losing our ability to express it, at least with any kind of spontaneity. When small children are happy, they irrepressibly dance, giggle, laugh and throw their arms into the air. As we get older we seem to suppress this unbridled joy of youth as if it is somehow wrong to be too happy, too celebratory. 

We tend to look upon other groups or cultures who instinctively feel the inspiration to dance and sing spontaneously as somehow less sophisticated or even underdeveloped. Perhaps one of the reasons we Americans gravitate to sporting events is because it gives us license to celebrate without reservation — to express unbridled joy; these events provide an acceptable excuse to demonstrate our joy publicly.  

On other occasions, perhaps in an effort to appear more sophisticated, we stifle our happiness. However, suppressing our joy is just as damaging as suppressing suffering. Both need to be validated and lived out. After all wasn’t waking up this morning worth celebrating, considering the alternative? 

Like Renita we all need a “happy dance” and we need to do it often, because we are all truly blessed. 

Dear God: Remind me to celebrate life today.

“The more you praise and celebrate your life, the more there is in life to celebrate.” ~Oprah Winfrey, American television personality, actress and producer (b. 1954)

 

©2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved. “90 Second Stewardship”  All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the “© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.