Too often we are unaware of our own magnificence.
I had the pleasure of enjoying some live Hawaiian music tonight, along with a beautiful hula dancer. She was the hula dancer most people would expect when they come to Hawaii; thin with smooth, dark skin, long-limbed, and graceful.
I moved over to the bar to get a better look, and while she was dancing, a trio of skinny, wrinkled women stopped and stared. You could see the youthful attitude in the way they dressed, but judging by the physical form and the bruised and delicate skin, they were in their 80’s. One of the women couldn’t have weighed more than 70 pounds, and was certainly nowhere near 5-feet tall.
She stopped, one black sock up and the other drooping down, grasping for the pole next to her. Mesmerized by the smooth, undulating movements of this hula dancer, she stood unmoving. It seemed these women, mentally still youthful but aged and fragile, were drawn back to another time when they too turned heads. Their awe was not the typical tourist excitement of seeing a real hula dancer for the first time. I had a feeling these women had been on many exciting adventures before. At the end of the dance, they awoke from their reverie and moved on.
They were replaced with a young girl only 3 or 4 years old. She, too, stopped dead in her tracks, but came over to the ledging and stared, chin cupped in her hands. There were stars in her eyes, and she stood and mimicked the hula dance, but she kept her eyes on the dancer.
Old women remembering dreams of their past, and a young girl making dreams. In between was an inspiration, a local hula dancer with amazing grace and presence and silent control. Yet, the dancer was unaware of the spell she had cast. She seemed preoccupied in between her dances as she sat off to the side.
I was brought back to my dreams when I danced, and the thoughts that went through my head. I know now that I inspired people, but at the time I was too busy dancing to see it, and too busy being hard on myself to believe I could have that effect on others.
I walked across the bar floor, knelt down next to her and said, “you have a fan,” directing my eyes behind her to the little girl. The dancer turned around, and seemed to pop out of her rumination a bit. I told her of what I saw, both the older women and the little girl, all of them mesmerized by her dancing. Her face softened, and she was genuinely thankful for me sharing what I saw.
Too often, we get caught up in our head and forget that everyone is beautiful and has a gift. Everyone includes you! You inspire others, maybe in a way you never realized.
Who in your life inspires you? Please, reach out and tell them so!