Confessions of a Kitchen Dancer

I’m a kitchen dancer.

When the house is empty, I turn up the music and dance in my kitchen.

It started one day while I was washing dishes. I turned on some electronic pop songs to fill the silence. When the dishes were clean, my feet were still tapping and my hips were still grooving. So I dried my hands and I let loose.

I danced ungracefully. I danced clumsily. I danced like a 1-year-old.

And somehow, my ungraceful kitchen dancing became a spiritual practice.

I’m not sure how or why, but when I dance in the kitchen, I’m communicating to the divine, and Him to me. I don’t know what I’m communicating, but I’m sure it’s a little bit of a love song, a little bit of a cry for help and a whole lot of fun.

But here’s the thing — nobody taught me that dance is a form of spiritual communication. Nobody showed me how to express love and sadness through awkward kitchen dancing. I stumbled upon it one day, and well, I liked it.

Why hadn’t I heard about the spiritual discipline of ungraceful kitchen dancing before?

I grew up in church. I was taught how to sing songs, recite bible verses, serve the poor, honor my elders and live a pleasing lifestyle.

I was taught the traditional church-approved methods of worshipping. And somehow practices such as poetry, yoga, bird watching, doodling and kitchen dancing didn’t make the cut. So many of these practices have liberated me and brought be closer to my maker.

I want to unlearn worship, then relearn it. I want to know the various unorthodox, taboo, ungraceful, fun spiritual disciplines. I want to understand how imagination and creative thinking can pave way for authentic connection with God.

Most of all, I want to see the church do the kitchen-dance. I want her to find her groove, and watch it bring her freedom. I want her to sing and hear her authentic voice, one that sings love songs to her maker.

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