So You Think You Can Dream?

I rarely watch television. Even the nightly news. I have no idea what's going on in the media world most of the time. Even so, every once and awhile I notice a fellow blogger mentioning "So You Think You Can Dance?" The particular blogs I read only mention this show and "The Office."

(The world seems to stop for "The Office.")

Tonight I turned on the TV for the first time in a long time.

(I have to say it felt like meeting up with a really cool old friend for coffee--pushing that button on the remote and starting to surf).

I came across "So You Think You Can Dance," and I watched as two people ripped up the stage.

Then I felt it. The uncontrollable desire to get up and smack my feet against the floor. No shame. Just the need to throw myself around the room a bit. No matter how uncoordinated I am, I felt this desire to pretend I can dance.

The other time (yes, only once) that I watched this show, Miles watched with me. He was absolutely enthralled with it. His three-year-old self got up and started spinning and kicking, punching and twirling. He thought he could dance. It was beautiful. Despite his uncoordinated efforts, his joy was contagious. Exciting. New. Profound. I loved every moment of what he named the "Star Wars Dance."

So now I'm watching the show and I'm all fired up. I see Joshua, the kid who grew up without much, shaking himself all over the stage, and I want to cheer. (Even if that one judge-lady has the most obnoxious voice ever, I am loving this.)

We all want that chance, don't we? That chance to be recognized for our gifts? We want to throw our arms up and kick, expressing ourselves. We want people to cheer and proclaim their love for our craft.

All this to say that I am so happy for the people on this show. I get it now. I want to cheer for these stranger-people who have worked hard for something, stumbling across their chance to make a name for themselves. I want to get up and pretend I can dance. To exert my creative energy and then wait. To stand there after expressing myself, panting and awaiting someone's critique, no matter how annoying their voice.

Right now, after watching this show, I think I can dance.

But I can't dance.

This show speaks to that part of me that still needs to dream. To tell the world that I have something to offer. So as I watch I get chills and I get a little weepy. Because I want to express myself the way these formerly unknown people do so well. We all want that. I really think we do.
So now I quote Joshua, one of the final four on "So You Think You Can Dance," saying;
"I'd rather be here, hurting...than be at home doing...nothing."

We're all made to do something, to express ourselves and to share our gifts. The people on this show are doing what we all want to do. They're taking a chance. We don't all need to be famous. That would be impossible. But we all are given gifts that could make that possible. That's why we long for it and find such joy in someone else achieving it.

So you think you can dream? Go ahead. You were meant to dream. You were made to possess something that no one else does. Maybe it's not dancing...or singing...or writing, but we all have something. Every person is made to carry a unique gift to the world. That's why we love shows like "So You Think You Can Dance" and "American Idol," don't you think? We are watching people live out their gifts in the same way that we would like to live our own.

We don't always know the road to take, but we should try anyway. For many of us the road is much less "fabulous" than the road on a reality show. Most of us are living the dream in quieter ways. But the mark we are making is just as important in our own little corner of the universe. We love shows like "So You Think You Can Dance" because we recognize the need to live. That is perhaps the best part of these reality shows--watching people live out their gifts. Very few of us will become known in this striking way, but we can still live out the dreams that were planted in us, making our mark on our little corner of the world. If only we dare to go out and work toward something, "hurting," rather than being at home, "doing nothing."

So I think I can't dance. But I can do other things. Maybe my things aren't as flashy and fun, but they are the things that make up who I am, right here in my world. They are my little chances to make my little contributions to my little corners of the world. That's good. So I think I can dream....