Pick of the Week: Twirling

I was sitting in church Sunday when I saw them. The two or three little girls, all about three or four years old. Their parents sit near the front of the church and the little girls gather together during the singing part of church. They will stretch their dainty arms out to each side, get their balance, and twirl. Their flowered dresses spin around their knees as the spin in their buckled shoes. They twirl faster to the faster songs, and slower to the slower songs. They will talk strategy about their twirling and change directions every once in a while. I can just imagine the one girl to the others, "Do it like this!"

My friend, Hannah, was sitting next to me in church. She also noticed the twirling toddlers and pointed to them, and said, "You are going to have one of the those someday! Because the tears were already on the cusp, I let them fall. I couldn't wait! Tim and I just found out that previous Wednesday that we were having a girl. I leaned back toward Hannah, and responded, "I know! And I was just wondering, does someone teach them to twirl like that, or do they just know how to do it?" She shrugged and said, "You have to be pretty confident and not care what people think to twirl in front of everyone." I said, "Three and four year olds don't know how to care about what people think of them. Hannah nodded her agreement.

Then I started to think, "When did I stop twirling?" I started to remember the countless weddings I have been to over the past four years and there are always those two or three, three or four year old little girls twirling in the middle of the dance floor. It is usually just them, their parents are still eating dinner or none of the adults have felt that it is the appropriate time to dance yet. But the little girls are there, twirling. I have taken many pictures of this phenomenon and wondered, why is it so cute? Why are we so touched by this simple, innocent action? Is it just American little girls, or do little girls all over the world twril? When did I stop twirling? Do little boys twirl? Maybe to get themselves dizzy, but little girls put on their new dress, and fling their arms out to the side and watch as their dresses lifts and twirls with them.

I don't know that I have quite put my finger on it yet, but it is something about feeling beautiful, and free. Something about understanding what "alive" is for the first time even if they can't put it into words. Something about fun, and being comfortable just twirling by yourself or with your friends, and not even knowing how to care if others are watching you.

There is a quote, isn't there? About, "dance like no one is watching” Why is that important? My favorite quote from the movie Elizabethtown, "make time to dance alone with one hand waving free." I know what you are saying, "Well, I'm a grown woman. I would just look ridiculous!" So I am going to help you. Everyone care a little less about looking ridiculous, when there is someone there to look ridiculous with them. If you see me outside, or on a dance floor, or even in church, and you want to twirl, just ask me. I will twirl with you. And if you see me twirling by myself in the middle of an empty dance floor, and you are wondering, did someone teach her that, or does she just know?" The answer is both. I used to just know how to twirl. I think every little girl with a new dress does. But along the way someone taught me how to care about looking silly too, so I maybe stopped twirling so much in public. Now, someone or several someones along the way have taught be how to twirl again. Whether by twirling with me, when I didn't want to look ridiculous by myself. Or by just saying, "It's okay to twirl, you are beautiful!" Or even by example, of being someone who I have seen stretch your dainty arms out to each side, get your balance, and twirl.

Thanks you fellow twirlers, who spin with no hesitation because you understand that it has something to do with beauty and freedom. Being alive and having fun, and being comfortable with twirling even when everyone is watching.