Dancing Stars

As I close my eyes, I can feel dancing. The dancing of the stars above me, watching me, singing to me; telling me to join them. It is never quiet around me, as there is a highway just around the corner, but today the silence is deafening. The stars watch over us, faultlessly. How must they see us all, acting the same every day? A routine in some ways, a burden in another. The stars are telling me to dance and while the silence surrounds me, I decide I should.

I get up from my bed and open my skylight. I deeply breath in the fresh air and realise what I need to do. I climb out, onto my roof. The stars become clearer and their message too. From the roof, to the garage, to the ground. To my bike, to the driveway, to the street. I go off, into nothing. I know exactly where I am, without wanting to know where I am. I have been here before, but I want to explore. I cycle for miles along the main road. Trees rush past me, while the stars cheer me on. I feel elated and put some speed on the pedals. The dancing becomes more of a pushing. Pushing for the right direction, which seems to be away.

Rushing past me are houses upon houses, all full of sleeping people with their own lives. I wonder about them. Are they aware while asleep? Do they think about the life they lead? Can they feel the pressure of the stars, watching them be who they are? Sometimes I just sit in my towns square and watch them all go past. Chatting to each other, all behaving differently, yet so similarly. The stars are always watching them too, we just cannot always watch back.

I smile as I think about what I am doing. I am out of the house, while the whole world is silent. Everyone is being themselves and I am being me. There is no need for anything more because the only way to be yourself at night is to be asleep. This is what we do. This is how we behave. This is what it is supposed to be.

Just for this moment, I am not being human. I am called by the stars, to be a little more. To behave a little more than human and to dance. I cycle on and on until the stars seem to wander off into the light. That is okay. I know they will keep shining, while the biggest star of all shines brighter. It wakes me up on my journey, just as it wakes up the birds and sleeping people. The fresh air is slowly fuller with song. From the Starling in the oak tree on my left, to the piano played by the 8 year old neighbour of a neighbour. The biggest star of all makes them dance and while I am out on my bike, I am looking at them all.

On a corner, an elderly man just picked up his newspaper. His dog barks at postman who is cycling on. Quite sweet how the elderly live, but in some ways a little sad too. They live a simple life but is it for enjoyment or necessity? Have they truly had enough of the wilderness or are they too tired to continue? Perhaps it is the same thing. Perhaps they do not feel the stars dancing anymore or has the silence they created, been made into something more. A silence to silence it all. Not encouraging at all, but more a silence to show it is enough.

The children can hear them though, I am sure of it. They might not realise they hear the stars, but they know inside. They dance and sing and hear it all. They explore and wonder, always reaching for those stars or questioning how the stars align for them. How it never fully resides with one, as the power of dance is not captured in a moment. It is a feeling they have and when they grow older, their love continues. Never, are they alone in their path to those stars, as the dancing above their heads will forever continue.

Adults feel it too, but they are too busy. Busy with all the things that do not really matter, but when they stand still and look up, they know. It is such a euphoric feeling when you see them twinkle down at you. It gives a feeling of calmness, to remind you that you might be busy, but you are there to twinkle onward yourself. To stand still for a second and be there. To just be there is a present. Your own present.

While I think about everyone, I realise I have not thought about myself. I have been pushed miles away from my home, but there is no ending. Just a constant push to go on, but where to? I realise the stars have no ending any time soon, while I am an ending in itself. The traffic light I had apparently stopped at turns green and I cycle on, without having any clue as to where I am. I have reached to unknown like I wanted, but it feels different than I had hoped. I can still feel a tingle of dance inside, but it decreases with every fence I pass.

The first farmers must have felt that dance to go into the unknown inside. A new land to explore, a new family to raise, some new cows to milk. However, we all get familiar with the new. The old never remains old because there is no real constant. That is how it works. This is also, what I quite enjoy. Those routines might be boring, but they are also enlightening. Even there, you find the new. The world is not predictable.

I cycle home again to my ordinary life. I can feel the stars shine, telling me to dance, but I have found a new meaning to dancing. It is not an exploration of the world of unknown. It is exploring your own unknown. When I lie in bed again, I look up and I can feel the stars nodding down at me, approvingly. Maybe, my ordinary life is not so ordinary after all if I just find the sparkle in my own unknown.