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My wise mother taught me many valuable lessons as a boy. She insisted I play some sort of musical instrument and I chose the guitar. She encouraged me to sing and would often thrust me front and center to perform a solo before our small church congregation. My mother also taught me to dance. "Every boy should know how to dance," she would say with a smile. This would prove out to be some of her best advice.

All of these things my mother showed me were wonderfully important to me, though I didn't realize it at the time, but nothing was more important than the ability to dance. My mother was a piano music teacher, a church organist, and thankfully a Buddy Holly fan. Her love of music was infectious. She taught me that one can sit quietly and enjoy music in a church setting or a concert, and one can also 'feel' the music and allow that feeling to guide them into expressive motion called dancing.

My first formal experiments with dance came in the form of community square dances. The cool boys stayed outside and threw rocks at the moon while the henpecked, momma's boys were forced to take part in the dance. Boy, am I glad I'm a momma's boy! It was awkward and a bit embarrassing at first, but I quickly absorbed the lessons and began to enjoy dancing. Little did I realize how the social skill called dancing would affect my life. It became quite apparent to me that not just a few girls liked to dance. All of them did!

My mother had equipped me with a golden key that could unlock the doors to the most well-secured, heavily-guarded fortress. With a little music and a humble invitation, even the most unapproachable, impossibly shy girl soon became easily coaxed from her chair to the dance floor. It was a wonderful revelation! Dancing is perhaps the only way certain people could ever meet and carry on a conversation without ever speaking a word. Such is the beauty of dance.

Show me a man that can't dance and I'll show you a man who is hopelessly sidelined on the bench at the party. He may be the most handsome guy in the room, but when the music starts he is nowhere to be found. His greatest pleasure is found not when the music begins, but when it ends. I never really thought about this much until I started accumulating friends that couldn't dance. Their lack of ability actually started hindering me at the parties we attended. Though it was a painful choice to make, I opted to be on the dance floor twirling an attractive girl while they glared on in obvious disapproval.

It should be no surprise to anyone that I met my lovely wife on the dance floor while attending college. We danced ourselves into marriage and are still happily dancing together to this very day. Our only daughter is an accomplished ballet dancer and we are also teaching our two sons to dance. I could tell them why it is so important to them, but that would ruin the surprise. I think I'll just allow it to happen as my loving mother did years ago. Thanks mom!

Learn more about this author, Greg Monroe.
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