Laura " The Mute" Buckner

If there is a faint harp playing sounds in the far off distance, I dance. If there is a drum beat from a homeless man tapping his foot, I dance.  It doesn't matter the scenario, if there is any sort of sound that sort of sounds like music, I dance. It's instinct.

Some people use pick up lines, I use pick up moves. Weddings and Cruise Ships, I really bring my two step up a notch. A bunch of lonely  people surrounded by love, feeling vulnerable and lost at sea, these situations are really were my dance moves get the recognition they deserve.  I call it dance moves, but really it's a mate calling ritual I perform to grab the eyes of potential suitors. 

When performing mate calling on the dance floor, one usually starts with a slight rotation of the hips and an isolated movement of the upper body. As the melody progresses, the body is more forceful, and if you are feeling courageous, you might add in arm movements above the head. But, again, when calling a mate, the arm movement above the head  signifies goof troop, which is not always a hit on the dance floor. I do not judge anyone for performing this move, I have been guilty of it too, but from personal experience, I have learned this is not a turn on to the opposite sex.  Also, while we are speaking of attractive dance moves, doing the stiff leg sea saw where you sort of hop like a kangaroo across the floor, is also NOT a proper move to use when trying to convince the opposite sex that you are a sexually desirable. Lastly, all the mime moves where you mime the grocery cart, mime the lawn more, lawn sprinkler, jack rabbit, all of these are better kept in the privacy of your own home, not on the mating call territory- So, I'm told. 

So, anyways, I'm at a wedding. Which I don't care if I know you or don't know you, if I am watching you get married, I am crying. It's just so  beautiful watching two people commit the rest of their lives together. Watching the two people look at each other during the ceremony, both full of inside jokes.  So, of course after watching the ceremony, I'm always convince that Mr. Perfect is around the corner, and we are going to accidently collide our spike fruit punch and I will spill mine on him and he will look into my eyes and say, " Your a mess" and I will know what he really means is, " I love you" and since the wedding is already set up I'll just borrow the dress from the girl and he can borrow the tux and we will turn their show into our show...

Ok, so anyways, when at a wedding, I feel an overwhelming amount of love. So, I proceed to the dance floor, ready to create my love fate, forgetting that my mom is off in the distance peeking at me. 

The dance floor, I'm learning, creates in me this monster, that needs attention in order to sustain life. Anyone that comes close to her dance circle gets beat up by the swing of  her hips. And it is unstoppable. I'm doing the funky chicken. I'm miming  everything from grocery cart, to toilet cleaner, to crack addict. I'm like a full power dance machine that is on auto pilot, and people gaze at it wondering when it's going to crash, but the machine never crashes. 

So, after five hours of full power machine dance moves, the party is over. I walk to the car with my mom. Yeah, my dance moves weren't the magical love wand I had anticipated.  So, dance machine sadly climbs into the car. Slightly high on attention, slightly low on the fact  I'm locked arms with mom. 

Well, then my mom says, " Laura, you give 100% on that dance floor,." I think to myself, " Aw poor thing is even proud of her peanut when she's doing the peacock and knocking down everyone that might inhibit her ability to spread her wings." But then she continues, " When really the dance floor only requires you give 50%."

She was right. I was overcompensating out of insecurity. My 50% was enough.  But, when do you know enough is enough. When do you know you don't need another coat of mascara? When do you know you don't need to lose one more pound? When do you know you've done all you can do to help the poor, to help someone? When are you just content, knowing you are exactly where you need to be, and more may come, but for right now the 50% is alright. 

I do everything at 150%, at least the things I care about. I love at that volume, I dance at that volume, I perform at that volume. But, it's too loud. 

Moral of the story:  Lower the volume so you can hear other's voices. 

There's more power in listening than being heard.