I was ten years old when my nana taught me one of the best survival skills I’ve ever learned.
I had come home teary-eyed and my nana had asked me what was wrong.
I told her I had a falling out with my friend, Ana, and as a result, she had told everyone in school that we were no longer best friends.
My nana looked at me and said, “Is that all, child? It’s time you start preparing for life; for life is pain and this is just the beginning.”
I didn’t understand how that was supposed to make me feel better but then she said, “When life kicks you in the teeth, there are two things you can do–you can either laugh or you cab dance. Today. we dance!”
Tears still streaming down my face, I looked at my granny like she had lost her mind.
Brushing aside my reaction, she quickly began twirling.
Snapping her fingers, she kicked her feet left and right.
It didn’t take long for me to join in and together, we danced in circles even though the only music was my nana humming off tune.
Needless to say, after a few minutes, we collapsed on the floor laughing.
Nana looked at me and said, “And that, Bella, is how you rid yourself of sadness.”
Decades have passed since I learned that lesson.
Laughing and dancing have gotten me through many of life’s rough patches.
Feeling like it’s not fair to keep this strategy to myself, I’ve shared it with everyone I know.
However, one night, while walking on the opposite side of my street, I noticed that the bamboo blinds in my kitchen are a bit see through.
It was this discovery that gave me the idea that, more than tell people about nana’s survival strategy, I could show them.
And so for the past year, I’ve put on an almost nightly dance performance, while I cook or clean the kitchen.
Slicing and dicing tomatoes prompts me to swivel my hips while music plays in the background.
Sweeping allows me to bust out moves that would make John Travolta proud.
And meal preparation encourages me to “drop it like it’s hot” and attempt Michael Jackson’s moonwalk.
There are times when even little Roxy will join me.
Together we attempt to tango and dance the jive.
Are the neighbors across the street laughing their asses off?
More than likely, yes.
But it’s all good because either way, I’m helping to spread nana’s sage advice.
Not to mention that getting through life’s ups and downs never felt this good.
Today I’m linking up with Heidi’s “Black and White Wednesday.”