The final lingering vestiges of self deceit died today. Against the incontrovertible evidence, I had remained hopeful that I had the ability to transcend my well documented phobia for dancing. Sometime between Ose O Jesu and some other Yoruba song which has escaped my memory, I realized that my rather feeble attempts at ‘dancing’ – clapping rhythmically, nodding my head from time to time, and shuffling from side to side – bore as much resemblance to dancing as a bee buzzing through the air bore to a fish swimming.. My sense of unease was worsened by the fact that it was a thanksgiving Sunday and we had to dance to the offering box. Interestingly, if the number of dancing worshippers was a significant sample of the larger community, then I am fighting a lost cause in refusing not learning to dance.
oga o 😦
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Why don't you just practice in front of a mirror like everyone else? Everyone does that too, right? ….right?
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Hmm… not a question of practice.. Just a total lack of a desire to dance…
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You are a weirdo! Better learn how to dance!
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Haha.. I'm actually making it a pre requisite that 'she' signs a pact that allows me to waive dancing during the ceremony… 😛
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Muhahahahaha! Dude pack yourself and our to left legs to a dance school and start from kindergarten stage!lol
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LOL. Maybe it's the wrong choice of music? I get into the groove when I like the song. Well, I like Ose O Jesu.
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lol im sure there's a dancing bone in there somewhere….just gotta find it and bust a move!
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