Inhibitions: Of Singing & Dancing

"O frabjous Day! Callooh! Callay!"
~ Jabberwocky, Lewis Carroll

Back in February, I saw the new Alice in Wonderland, with Johnny Depp as the The Hatter; initially, I was sceptical, expecting at best a mediocre film, but in watching it, was intrigued by the liminal space presented. Another "liminal" (in the pop culture interpretation of the term) space I'm loving: jump breaks in blog posts!
Simply put, liminal spaces are the in-betweens, the not-yet/but-almosts, and the becomings that exist between fixed locations (Narnia fans, think of the Wood Between the Worlds in The Magician's Nephew - a book which begins with travel between houses via attics...). In the Old Testament (and in Jesus' and John the Baptist's time there in the New), Wildernesses are such spaces: In-between the civilisation and safety afforded by cities, these are desolate places full of physical danger. Simultaneously, however, they are also the site of great transformation wherein God protects people spiritually and develops them for His purposes: The wandering Hebrews eventually become a nation after 40 years of wandering; Christ returns from the desert ready to begin His formal ministry; and so forth. In another idiom, liminal spaces are "off the charts" - not constrained by the social norms present in civilised areas with codified laws and cultural mores. (And, we would do well to remember that "Here there be monsters!")
[Note: Liminal spaces were a central aspect of my capstone essay on Tolkien; I am fascinated by them, and see their huge role in literature as places for characters' transformations; I will try to not digress, but should you be intrigued I'd be happy to discuss in more depth]
So: Alice enters a world "through the looking-glass"; in the film, at least (for I've not yet read the book - something the movie made me want to do, which ought to be the aim of all movie adaptations of books!), she enters this world at a crucial time in her life, when she's trying to make an important decision (furthermore, this world has been portented by a dream, another liminal space). Upon exiting the world, she has "found herself" and knows what her decision is. (Now, this doesn't boil down to a "If you go to Church, you become a Christian" or "If you go into a garage, you become a mechanic" argument; that's the point of liminality: Indeterminacy coupled with great potential - for success, or failure.) And at one point, we're told that the Hatter is renowned for his ability to dance the Futterwacken, a dance of greatest celebratory elation - but which he has not danced in some time because of the reign of the Red Queen. However, it is promised that he will dance it on the Frabjous day, when Alice slays the Jabberwocky.
I strongly liked the idea of a Frabjous day - a day of great extraordinary celebration over the release from the bondage of the Red Queen's rule.

And this stood out to me particularly because of The Hatter's manner  of celebrating: Dance.
Given his accent, I'd anticipated something akin to Scottish Highlands Dancing, but this was not to be in the world of Hollywood (silly, silly me). And this reminded me that while I've enjoyed participating in English Country Dancing since I've been at College (and now a year out), there was a time once in High School when I free-styled in my room to the tune of bagpipes and fifes (on a $10 CD from Target, haha!). I thought of taking lessons so I could actually dance Scottish Highlands Dancing properly, but never took any steps in that direction. Sometimes when I'm worshiping, I can feel my feet start movin' like they want to get out there and dance like David - without hindrance. But, and I don't know if it's due to the denomination I was raised in (and which I love) or to my introverted nature that doesn't like being the centre of attention, I've never overcome my inhibition toward public self-expression.
Similarly, while I love singing, I am acutely aware that I don't have any training in how to modulate my voice (and it's taken years to be able to find & keep the beat - which proves it's not impossible for this old dog to learn a new trick!); so, while I can hear my mistakes, I don't know how to correct them, which means it's a painfully slow process of learning what doesn't work. I often sing quietly on songs I don't know during worship, sight-reading as best I can, but invariably missing the mark - and noting my every mistake. While I do sing loudly on songs I know well, I'm still inhibited from my knowledge that I'm no Pavaratti, and the remark of a friend in High School that "You sing with all your heart; I can always tell when I'm sitting in front of you" (which I originally misunderstood as a compliment).

So lest this post dip into the realm of self-pity, my intent in mentioning these thoughts is the hope of a day when I'll be free of my inhibitions and able to sing and dance for my Lord without worry; when I have been transformed by the fulness of His glory beyond my own inhibitions. In this season of Lent, we are reminded that the not-yet/but-almost of Christ's return leaves us in a state of tension as we hopefully anticipate his joyous return - O, what a frabjous day that will be, indeed!

"On Jordan's stormy banks I stand,
and cast a wishful eye
to Canaan's fair and happy land,
where my possessions lie..."