In the Darkness I'll Dance...
One of my favorite songs is by an Irish folk band Rend Collective. I like them because they are loud, lively, enthusiastic and in every way over the top—they even have river dancers at their concerts—because well—why not? I like the acoustic way that they sound, but I love them even more because beneath the vocal ballads, and bagpipes, they sing raw and unrefined and heartfelt lyrics. This is something that much of the music industry struggles to convey because genuine emotion doesn’t typically sell records.
As humans we want to hear of life as it was ‘meant to be.’ This means a life free from struggles, and simplistic in all of its ways. If it’s a country song, it’s about building a life with a dog and a spouse and a cabin. In rock music it’s about the fame, the thrill of life on the road, and the affection of those around you. Hip-hop and rap personifies success through women, and cars. It doesn’t matter the genre, each artist talks about the point at which they can say that they ‘made it,’ and have achieved the high point in their life. We hear musicians speak about this ‘good life’ and it’s completely normal for us to chase after these dreams that are spoken of in the choruses of nearly every song ever recorded.
We are constantly after something.
We know that there’s something missing.
Yet we willingly lie to ourselves, pretending that we’ve figured it out.
I get frustrated when people online say that they are “living their best life.” This phrase has become common language for people of all ages. It’s usually the caption that can be found on a picture at the beach, or in the mountains with friends or doing some activity which requisites a social media post—proving you did “something” worth sharing.
The fact that we have to tell ourselves that we’re doing something that helps us ‘live our best life,’ says something much more inherent about what’s going on inside of us. It means that we’re blindly and intentionally ignoring the messy, dark, and uncertain parts of our life, hoping that by negating it, that by some means, it will eventually disappear. That if we only focus and exhibit our best fronts to the world, that we will forget where we are falling captive to our inner fiends.
This approach is incredibly unhealthy for a number of reasons:
It makes us comfortable telling ourselves that we’re alright; when we clearly aren’t.
It makes us build our personal identity around an action or activity, rather than a personality.
It makes our existence and satisfaction contingent on ease and simplicity.
It makes us unpredictable, volatile and temperamental.
It makes us settle for less.
We as a society don’t talk about the difficult parts of our lives. We are constantly in a reckless pursuit of proving our worth to other people through our accomplishments and things we think are successes. Frankly however, they probably aren’t that interested in something that doesn’t involve them.
My favorite Rend Collective song has a line that speaks volumes to this ideal. It says: “In the Darkness I’ll Dance, in the Shadows I’ll Sing.”
Literarily, it sounds like something from a show tunes performance, but in context, it holds so much value and brings conceptual ultimatums to life.
There’s something so brilliant and kinesthetic about dancing. It unifies groups, it crosses cultural boundaries, it’s free form, yet structured, it’s passionate, still fun. Some of my greatest memories of college are going to clubs and bars and line and swing-dancing with friends until the early parts of the morning—being physically exhausted, yet filled with so much laugher and satisfaction. It’s the root of joy, and something I believe that’s intentionally and intrinsically stitched into our DNA.
“In the Darkness I’ll Dance, in the Shadows I’ll Sing.”
This song speaks truth into the notion that life isn’t easy. We’ve just been spoon fed the lies that certain achievements will bring us the happiness that we’ve been pursuing. That our perception of a “good life” is free from difficulty, and filled with things that make our life easier.
This lyric (which I’d love to have tattooed on me) challenges this idea, that our lives weren’t destined to be simple. We are complex creatures with feelings, ideas, and emotions, and discovering and unlocking the hidden potential of these superlatives is all part of our own growth.
It doesn’t deny that darkness exists—like so many of us blamelessly do to ourselves on a daily basis. Darkness and evil is something whose prevalence plays a very real role in our current and future reality. In fact it recognizes that much of our individuality and character is based on who we are in our struggles. Our ability to find joy amongst the darkest of nights and situations is a much better personal feat than taking steps to building that ‘good life’ that many chase desperately after—because we’re told that’s what will fill us. We are greater because of our struggles.
We are constantly after something.
We live in a world filled with darkness. No matter your background, how you were raised, or what you believe in, that’s a universal truth that we can all stand on.
Darkness loves to resonate itself as light; we have to recognize this. We can’t faultier ourselves by creating the notion that we have everything together. This false misconception creates more pressure and greater stress than any of us can truly stand to muscle up and bare.
We have to take moments to recover, to heal, and to admit our shortcomings. We at the end of the day, despite the titles we uphold, positions we have, or what people refer to us as, are still humans.
The people in your life who truly care for you, are a lot more concerned with your well-being when you can admit where you’re weak, than if you’ve established the imagery that you’re stronger than you actually are. Those who truly care will not exploit your darkness bringing you shame or dismay, but will embrace you for you, bringing light to the situation, making you feel less lost and not so alone.
We are constantly after something.
Maybe if you’re struggling to ‘Live your Best Life,” you just haven’t found the right dance partners yet.
You don't have to be a wallflower anymore.
Get back on the Dance Floor.
-Nick
