Thanks to my mother's generosity buying me dancing lessons for my bday, I've been dancing, again. It is such pure joy, and I love it second most in my life. Second only to my family. I'm not very good at it, and it doesn't come naturally, but when I can follow a move or move my body in a certain way, it is so blissful. I think part of it is a spiritual experience. I'm not thinking about myself. At least not about any thoughts about myself. It's partly primal. My body wants to move to music. It's partly neurotransmitters. Dopamine is through the roof, and norepinepherine and epinepherine (so-called "stress" hormones) are also high - the excitement/anxiety coin. Dancing with DID is particularly enjoyable, which I think is a little bit astrological and some pheromones. I really wish Brad would try it. I think it's the only thing I don't like about him. I think he would really like Lindy Hop. It's athletic and so much fun! But, at least I'm glad he doesn't mind if I do it. And at Go Dance, it's so platonic and not creepy he has nothing to worry about. I've been to one class this time around and am going to go to the social dance on Sunday at 6:30 pm. Even if I have a broken leg. I'm going. I psych myself out of doing it because I'm afraid everyone will know I have no idea what I'm doing. Isn't that the dumbest thing? Something I love but let my brain tell me what to do. No way! The feet are doing the talking, now!
