The Dance of Life...

Lately, i’ve been thinking that life isn’t something we walk through… it’s something we dance.

And the truth is, i don’t always know the steps.

Some days i glide forward like the music is inside me.

Other days i trip over my own feet and lose the rhythm completely.

But somehow, even when i stumble, the song keeps playing.

Two steps forward.

One step back.

And still… i move.

There are days that feel like tango… heavy, close, slow.

The kind of days where everything matters too much, where every breath feels deliberate, where you’re caught between holding on and letting go.

Then come the salsa days… when the world spins too fast but your body says yes anyway.

You laugh in the middle of the chaos, sweat, heartbeat, music… all tangled together.

You stop trying to get it right.

You just let yourself feel alive.

And then there are flamenco days.

The ones that burn.

The ones that demand something real.

You stomp, you cry, you rise, your pain turns into rhythm, your anger into art.

Every breath says: I’m still here.

That’s what life is, isn’t it?

Not perfection. Not performance.

Just movement.

Just trying.

Just coming back to the music, again and again, even when you’ve forgotten how to dance.

Two steps forward. One step back.

Still breathing. Still moving.

Still dancing.

Because the dance, the messy, unpredictable, beautiful dance… is the life.