Just another sad carol

In rare occasions that I'd be asked to dance, I find really strange connections with how my mind thinks, and how my body actually sways along the music. There's a degree of disconnection that I don't feel whenever I play table tennis, or do a 5-km run. These are seemingly related things, yet very far from one another.

Meanwhile, my younger brother is a dancer --- a good one. The moment he sees a step, he can execute it with ease. He used to join dance competitions after co-founding a dance group in our local place.

Probably, my inability to dance is due to the lack of practice because,in total, the times I was able to join dance productions can still be counted with my fingers. Two of them were due to the acquaintance parties in the schools I've worked for (the one I am still working for).  New teachers are expected to perform in front everyone as an initiation which might have a little thing to do with teaching but a lot to do with a good laugh.

My brother might have gone places because of dancing, but he has a lot to improve on his singing. I may not be particularly good, but I am confident I can outperform him in that aspect. He may have known how to pour his energy using his body movements but he won't know how it is to sing in a bar for the first time and screw up so hard you don't want to try ever again.

It's odd that the disconnect I feel with dancing can also be observed with my relationship with my brother. No, not only him, but also with my family. They are still the best gifts, but times without them make me feel that I no longer know them. The distance between us tell me that I might be loving the different people now. Maybe because two of them are already building their own families.

The weather is cold outside. It rained for hours. 

A sad carol plays on the radio.

I miss being home.