I joined a line dancing class recently to get some regular exercise. The instructor is around seventy years old, and some of my classmates are in their eighties already. Needless to say, I don’t know any of the “pop songs” that we dance to. I feel I am being transported to an era before my time, but these ladies and one gentleman feel right at home, dancing like stars, with the rest of the universe as audience.

Some of them come in tracksuits and sneakers, ready to burn off some calories, while some dress as if attending a party, in fancy skirts and dancing shoes.

Some try to follow the steps, keeping their eyes on the instructor, while some could very well be the instructors themselves, adding full arm and body movements to the steps.

Some can twist and turn and tap and shuffle, while some make minimal movements right at their spots. One sweet old lady had hip surgery so her mobility is limited, but certainly not her enthusiasm or energy.

There is beauty in every single one of these dancers, not because of how well they dance, but because of the passion in their hearts. They enjoy dancing so much, they are in-JOY! When one sees a flawless dance, one judges it to be beautiful. In this case, I see flaws but cannot help but feel the beauty radiating from each of these dancers. Outward beauty may compare and intimidate — I am not as good a dancer as others, so I should stand at the back and not let others see me; but inner beauty is contagious — it encourages me to do as much as I can and enjoy it. In my little, awkward, not-so-coordinated moves, I still feel beautiful, because I am dancing with the stars and I feel like one too!