I dance Irish...
-Because I hated ballet.
-For the lessons. Not the ones you pay for, but the ones you learn, consciously or not, when you're routinely around people of all different ages who may or may not have different opinions than you do. Who knew it was possible to argue about politics and still be friends?
-For the kind of friends you really trust. It takes trust to dance on a team.
-For the ability to not sit on a public toilet seat. That includes Port-O-Lets.
-For the feel of it. The feel that songs like "I Hope You Dance" try to capture that I never believed in until I learned my threes. Before three years ago, I never knew what it was like to soar.
-For the drive to succeed. When you're mid-workshop, pre-feis, it's hard to get past any desire other than for a shower. But then, if you're focused, you remember why you're there, drenched in sweat in a stuffy studio in the middle of July in the first place.
-For the well-traveled-ness. Okay, it's not a word. But ID is the only mainstream form of dance that I can think of with a requisite of traveling. That is, if you want to compete, and unless your school happens to host an annual competition. The sad thing is that unless gas prices [in the U.S.] take a drastic dive, it may become a thing of the past for some.
-For the realization that it's not always serious. I'm lucky; my school dances at some of the most fun festivals known to man throughout the year. I don't know about you, but when I'm dancing on of those really big, high stages outdoors in an even bigger tent at a festival I've attended for years, I'm not worrying about whether or not I'll place first (again!) in my hornpipe at the next feis.
Mostly because it's all I can do to quell my childish panic.
Which brings me to one last, unique reason...
-For the opportunity to squelch stage fright, time after time. I don't mean it in the traditional sense. By now, it isn't performing before crowds that gets to me.
It's heights. Even small ones. I'm talking over four feet is a problem for me. Somehow I haven't managed to rid myself completely of the dry-mouthed, slick-palmed anxiety that has nothing to do with the spotlights and the so not invisible (as I was once promised) crowd. Pathetic, huh? But I'm working on it.