I cannot fully express the importance of letting go of yourself in a world that demands complete control of your actions and reactions. Although I’ve already written about a night out with the girls, I simply cannot let this go unwritten.
Responsibility is what makes us think twice about our words and actions. The modern career demands professionalism and some of us probably end answering our private phonecalls unawares with “Hello, Sunshine speaking, how may I help you?”. This is a systematic disease that infiltrates our brains forcing our personalities to behave in the perimeters that are acceptable and expected from society. As much as I would love to turn up the radio and dance on my desk when my favourite song comes on, I bet that such behaviour would result in my immediate dismissal, or worse… incarceration to the nearest loony bin!
However, ever just so often… it is necessary to take the foot off the brakes and let go.
Tension, it builds up on your shoulders, stiffens your neck and pulls at your tendons. Daily stress is unavoidable and a condition that simply cannot be rid of permanently. How you get rid of it, depends entirely up to you. Yoga, gym, jogging, meditation, massages… the treatments are endless and although I find that music and a good shower works for me, I’ve also discovered that after a while these methods become useless if I don’t let go!
The white uniform party.
Whilst desperately trying to calculate the credit that needed to be applied to my client’s billing, I was rudely interrupted with a note put in front of my nose. And this? Two tickets for Friday night’s white uniform party at Copacabana. Rolling my eyes, I thought of all the sleep I could be catching up on instead of joining my colleagues at a party wearing a colour that makes me look three times larger than I already am! Financially, this was probably something I could avoid, however I’m not sure if it was the insistent whining, the voice within or Usher on the radio that made me change my mind and by the end of the day I convinced my mate to come with me.
Wardrobe was made easier since I only had one colour to choose from… although I still required my friend to help me rummage through my cupboard. After a couple of changes of attire, we eventually agreed on the right top and all that was missing was to put on my shoes. I’ve come to realise in my life that there are two ways to cure a woman’s spirit… let her hibernate in her pyjamas or let her dress to kill. Any woman will agree with me, when I say that there’s nothing like wearing a new pair of pants to boost your ego.
Living on a small island, you can count on running into people that you know. If it isn’t your neighbour than it’s your schoolmate or work colleague. Running into my group of colleagues and their friends wasn’t surprising and you don’t know whether to feel good or frustrated that walking across the room involves greeting a dozen faces that you know. Having quite enough of groups and gangs, my mate and I decided not to dance in any of them and danced in our space, our way. Opening the dance floor, I knew that my “courage” would be Monday’s topic of conversation. It would probably last all the way until lunch and who knows, if nothing else juicy happened during the weekend, it could last until midweek. Aren’t I lucky that my personal policy means I don’t worry about what other people think? If I did, I would not be able to do what I had gone to do…
To let go…
No need of alcohol, no drugs, no psychological preparation… When you hear the music and let it seep into yourself, you almost immediately fall into a natural high. The beat sets your heart’s pace, the rhythm takes over your soul and your body responds to every note in the song. Blocking the gazers, watchers and observers around me, I concentrated on the music and felt the tension leaving my body.
Show me how you dance and I’ll tell you, your capacity to let go…
When eventually two of my colleagues came to join us, they brought some of their friends with them who were more than interested in dancing to our moves. At one stage I counted nine guys and on one particular song, we looked like a groupie with them copying all our moves. I silently wondered how many of them were married or had girlfriend waiting for them back home. Those that I knew behaved themselves and as the evening wore on, one of them became our bodyguard to help keep the more alcoholically influenced in their places. Gone are the days where telling a guy your have a boyfriend put him off. No matter how many times I insisted, there was one particularly persistent boy who simply would not take no for an answer. Trying not to be rude, I still got taken in for a dance but venturing hands drove me to having to be more direct. I truly wonder what the confessed girlfriend would say to him asking me for my number and inviting me out to coffee. Another guy’s phone number we left under the windscreen of a car on our way out. You could call it heartless, but I call it saving time. You don’t waste his time and he doesn’t waste yours on finding out there the road leads to nowhere. How do I know he wasn’t my soul mate? Well, let’s just say my man knows better than to approach me that way.
A shower and change of clothes later, sleep is finally kicking in. Today’s plans involve going to the beach and catching some rays. Swimming and tanning are the in the doctor’s prescription and by Sunday there’s not a doubt in my mind that stress is a forgotten illness (at least until Monday). Yet, a whole weak of going to the beach could not relieve that one night of singing and dancing can do my soul.
To prevent madness… one requires letting go, every now and again.