Even as an aged/middle aged/ late aged individual who might not sing in the shower like they used to, or dance alone like they used to, or dance in front of others like they used to, or go to gigs like they used to etc – even these people will sometimes be in a car (ideally as you drive out of the woods into the countryside as the beat drops) or on a walk or while on the computer and a tune will grab you by the Central Nervous System and get you bouncing and thrilled and young again. There is something deep and primal about it. The feeling might not last very long so you have to ride it and enjoy it and feel it.
Like people tens of thousand of years ago doing mad things on cave walls like it meant something special, that you can’t define or truly touch. Like some kind of initiation ceremony that might involve natural substances and a fire in the remotest parts of the world going back to ancient times. Deep within you. A spirit. An abandon. A Dionysian abandon. Like something from the Secret History but that might not involve a death. It is catharsis and meaning pure and simple. An expression not regulated by social expectation. It is why people get covered in mud and rain in tents and shit down holes at festivals. I cannot explain it, but sometimes a certain melody or lyric just hits the spot. These episodes might last a few minutes, or maybe 15 to 30. You might get it at a gig or club or when riding the love drug.
As you get on, these times grow rarer but more special. Your senses dull to them somewhat.
Chase a tune. Sometimes a choon catches you. Chases you. An album. A memory. Memories coming and going.
Cherish these moments. Sometimes a film does it. The music.
Cherish them.
You are complete.
Nothing else matters.
Dance like a fool.
Sing like you mean it.
Dance like that girl in Toronto in 2001 on a Wednesday night.
Only one other person knows that reference.
But we have all felt it in different ways to different things.
But feel it.
Just feel it.
And let it go…
Let it flow through you…
And get it out there…
Sometimes others round you get it…
And that makes it even better…
But the ones just for you…
They are good too…
Dance and sing like no one is watching...
Sometimes it is inside you but you suppress it...
Or it just doesn't take you that way...
Sometimes an art gallery...
Sometimes someone special...
Although how can I bring that type of love into a poem like this...
It deserves its own...
But has the same deep and sacred root...
And if you can perform it or write it...
I guess that is even better...
To let it out...
My Dad calls me downstairs...
It is the late 80s...
There are people on TV singing...
My sister is next to me...
And it is amazing...
And I remember it now...
How is took my heart...
Like the first holiday when you feel the wonder of life...
And travel...
So lucky...
And the singing is deep...
And it is sacred...
It is the 9th...
And I got it...
Right there...
My Dad got it...
And showed it to us...
And that moment right there...
Right there...
It is 2001 again, and I enter a club with my mate Mick...
People are on raised platforms dancing...
The beat and the melody and the atmosphere...
Transcend...
The people...
The unity...
A Church...
A bombed out Church...
And people are dancing in the rain...
To house music...
And the rain makes it better...
And that moment right there...
Right there...
And there is a dot...
A pale blue dot...
Far far away...
All that we know and feel...
So far far away...
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