We are have dreams and ideals, some left from our childhood, some acquired later. Against this set of ideals, we are broken. By the pain of life, both everyday and particular crises, we have cracks and jagged edges, scars all over the place from abuses, failed friendships, betrayals, neglect, etc. And yet given the monsters we are, we dance*. And that dance helps to partly redeem us; in that dance we laugh at the brokenness in ourselves, in others, we pull away from the spirit of gravity, we show that while we may never be whole by anyone's measure, we are not a beaten horse. Laughter is essential to the dance; if we cease to laugh, we get touchy, and we succumb to the spirit of gravity. We must laugh at others and they must laugh at us, as purification and preventative for ego.
We are a tired, stained, cracked, species, but we will laugh and dance and survive life until it takes us or until we are ready to stop dancing. We dance because we care, we dance because we love and are curious, we dance because it strikes our fancy, and sometimes we even dance to experience the pain in our hooves. Our left foot decides to war with our right foot in war of words and ideas; construct a paradigm, deconstruct. Every idea we spring, every smile we have through the pain, everything worthwhile we do, every kindness we share, it's another joy we have delightfully stolen from that spirit of gravity. When we stop and cease to be, the burden that we mock in our dance will finally fall from us.