Cosmic Dancefloor

Do you have it all figured out? I do. At least I like to tell myself I do. And then with incredible clarity - I see.

My wife referred to it recently as the "cosmic dance." She borrowed this descriptor from someone else, but she explained it in a way that I understood (she does this with our children sometimes as well, explaining complicated ideas in simple bite size pieces).

It is a dance with a preselected piece of divine music in the background. You will usually get good instruction early on as to the manner in which to dance to this music. Be kind to others. Listen to that voice inside of you. Don't rationalize the stupid things that you want to do with reasons that make insanity seem perfectly reasonable.

But we usually decide that we want to dance to our own music. Disregard that beautful piece of music that is already playing in the background. And so we usually look like fools out on the dance floor. Bobbing seemingly oblivious and uncoordinated to our own piece of music. Heard only by us ... and by God, we are going to dance to it. Perhaps as a man I relate to this analogy in an especially painful way. Most of us men, with the exception of a few of questionable orientation (kidding), are pretty awful dancers. Oh, there is the occasional instance where (usually after ingesting large amounts of alcohol) we have an appointment with a dance floor. Our moves are impeccable. Making you desirous of our choreographic abilities. We might even mix in some different genres for you - who said break dancing and salsa are incompatible? Yes, that seizure you are watching was carefully planned out. Thank you very much.

But the cosmic dance beckons. And how I have fought it.

Even when I try to listen to the cosmic music, I will inevitably get off on my own dance. And it is the same distracting tunes over and over that take over. You would think that I would know better by now. I know what to do to keep my ears to the music that I should be listening to. But all too often I become assured that this time, I have it all figured out.

And so I am pulled back in. And I am thankful for that. I am reminded that my dance looks pretty silly on the cosmic dance floor. And so I try to get back in step. Until next time when my two left feet start tapping to my own tune. All I can do is be grateful that the Almighty is patient.

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