Babies aren’t taught how to cry, walk, or dance. When they are wet, hungry, or don’t feel well, they cry. In a declaration for more independence, toddlers will use coffee tables, sofas, and pant legs, to pull up and push off toward new territories and when they hear the rhythmic beat of music, babies dance by bending, bobbing, and rocking.  They don’t care where they are-they may be in a highchair, car seat, or even rolling around on the floor trying to put the dog’s toy in their mouth, but when they hear the music, they innately move.  By the time we reach junior high, we become more ashamed to dance- the only one privileged to see our dance moves are our shadows- we dance to an audience of one. Fearing rejection and ridicule, we go to school dances and post up against the wall with other non-dancing friends and make fun of those who are blind to mockery.  From an early age, we begin to lose ourselves by allowing other people and circumstances to mold and shape our identity. 

There was a time you used to dance. When you were interviewed for the sales position, you said that you were a people person-and you were just that.  You didn’t care how the customer looked or dressed, what they drove up in, what they owed on their vehicle, nor their buying intent-you just danced. The tunes of rejections and objections from customers didn’t deter you-when you failed you found another partner and danced again. There were times you stepped on your customers’ feet-awkwardly going too fast or too far- other times customers rudely drove off, leaving you to stand solemnly alone on the blacktop’s dance floor. Yet in spite of the setbacks and shortfalls you kept on dancing and tenaciously achieved success. But as you grew older, and more seasoned, you became more “selective” in your partners-selective is the politically correct word we use for being more ashamed. Wanting to be accepted and make friends, you began to allow the advice of what less successful veterans would or wouldn’t do to shape and mold your actions. Because you allowed cynicism, rejection, and ridicule to creep in, you danced less. As if you were in junior high again, only 90 days after hitting the sales floor, you became the judge and jury of who was or was not worth your time; the conditions and customers had to be optimal, otherwise you didn’t dance. No longer others centered, you were the center of your you-ni-verse-you were more self-conscious of how you looked to your peers than to your customers. Fewer partners made dancing between fact finding questions and handling objections awkward, more cumbersome; frustrated you danced less and less until you no longer danced at all. No longer able to hear the music or understand the lyrics, you quit the profession that you once danced so passionately for.

The best dancers are those who lose themselves in the moment. Psychologically, our brains and bodies have an innate desire to synchronize and harmonize with others-doctors call it entrainment, we call it dancing. Your body’s breathing, cadence, and rhythms innately try to connect with your partner’s-the more connected you are, the more likely you are to win Dancing with the stars or in your case Dancing with more cars.

The most successful people are those who aren’t afraid to look foolish- the biggest embarrassment is to fall short of your potential. Lose yourself; always dance, tirelessly connect, and the music will never stop. I’ll see you next time on the blacktop.