Once a good dancer, always a good dancer.
There’s certainly something to say when you’ve just witness a good number of old folks dancing. And I’m talking about over sixty seasoned folks. My mind was blown.
It gets me thinking about how often we discount the elderly when it comes to particular activities like dancing or anything that involves even the subtlest movements. It’s so easy for us to scoff at the youth hidden behind their wrinkled bodily form. How we label the old by the color of their crown and crooked backs. It’s almost not fair..
Truth is nobody wants to grow old. I mean, grow old.
The young of this modern realm is afraid to tread past its prime; to have their youth fossilized in a feeble frame. So they spend the remains of their glory days exhausting the youthfulness they possess. Don’t get me wrong, to be young is liberty at most supreme stage. But to be old is to treasure the youth once had, not just to reminisce the spring time of life, but to embody it.
Beyond all shadows of doubt, there are significant stages in life. But youth.. youth is eternal.. in spirit.
This is a sweeping declaration that my soul will remain young as I tread towards all maturity. Dancing effortlessly with time.