Dance like no one is watching.
It’s an encouragement to be free. A push to dance as if there are no onlookers, no one to judge your random gyrations, and no crowd to critique your rusty robot or malfunctioning sprinkler.
It’s a nod to being present and the elevation of a moment. It’s a plate of attention, with anxiety on the side.
In a world full of cares, it implores you to have none.
My biggest fear with writing was that no one would read it.
But if fat men can shimmy and grandmas can shake, then why should I care.
I should write like no one is reading.