What I Learned About Life From a Blind Guy on the Dance Floor

Lessons From a Vagabond Journey

The other night, I went out with the intention of having a couple of drinks, listening to some good music, and just having fun overall.

I went out by myself, as I usually do. Ever since I left my home country back in January this year, there have only been a couple of times where I didn’t go out by myself and I already had some company. For me, an introvert and someone who is often uncomfortable in social situations with strangers, this has proved extremely beneficial. I had to learn how to relax, meet new people, and have fun without the help of being with a group of friends. But not every night is the same. 

Sometimes, I am able to get in the right mood, dance, meet new people, and have a great time. But, for me, going out is not so much about meeting new people, at least that’s not my primary intention. What I want to do more than anything is just relax and have fun listening to some good music.

And then there are nights when I’m simply not able to relax and let loose. I fall back to what I would call my "default mode," which is being reserved and having my guard up when there are a lot of strangers around me.

This was one of those nights. I was standing at the bar, stiff as a board. And, knowing myself, I’m pretty sure my face looked like I was angry at someone or something. But I wasn’t angry. I was just uncomfortable, and I felt out of place.

As I was standing there, watching other people have fun, I remembered a similar night I had earlier this year.

I was in a different country. It was my third time moving in three months. I was a bit tired of trying to find a place to settle down for a while. Things were not going well on multiple fronts in my life. I also haven’t had a face-to-face conversation with anyone for over a month. That is, if you don’t count saying "mango," "papaya," and "thank you" to the old ladies selling fruit on the street.

So I decided to go out, find a party, try to have some fun and get my mind off everything for an hour or two. It didn’t work. At least initially.

The music was great. The energy of the people was great, almost everyone was dancing. And I was standing there, tense as if I was about to get punched in the stomach.

I was about to leave when I saw a young blind man getting on the dance floor.

The majority of my tension instantly disappeared, and a slight smile even appeared on my face. I have a soft spot for people with any kind of disability who are out there in the world, trying to engage with life.

I noticed that he had a friend with him, but the friend was pretty far away, as if they had an agreement for the friend not to guide him or treat him like a disabled person in any way. They were just two guys out partying. It’s just that one of them needed a cane to orient himself.

I decided to stick around for a bit more because seeing him out there really made me happy.

However, I expected him to just move around the dance floor a bit, to feel what it’s like to be there, and then maybe go back to his table to listen to the music from a more comfortable place.

It’s fair to say that I couldn’t have been more wrong.

He started dancing. And I don’t mean dancing in a careful, shy way.

I mean he started dancing like you would if you were alone at home or if you were the most confident person in the club.

On a dance floor that was full of people having a great time, he was visibly one of the people who was enjoying himself the most.

It was beautiful.

You know when you see something so amazing that you are not even smiling anymore, but your mouth is wide open, so you are half-smiling, half-laughing? That was my face while looking at him.

It took me a couple of seconds to realize that I might look like an idiot or a creep staring at him like that, so I tried to contain myself. But I believe I didn’t fully manage to get the smile off my face for the rest of that evening.

I didn't end up joining the party. I was tired and I decided to go back to my place. But I left feeling hopeful about life.

How much strength and courage does it take to go out and have fun when life has hit you so hard? In this case, when the most important sense for a human being has been taken away from you? And I don’t mean go out to party and dance. I mean, how much strength and courage does it take to even go out of the house and engage with the world in any way. To believe that this life still has beauty, joy, and fun to offer you?

I don’t know. I can only try to imagine, and I would still be so far off.

All I know is, that night, I was smiling out of happiness for that beautiful young man, and I was laughing at myself. 

I was laughing at how stupid I was.

I was able to accept my life circumstances without complaining or feeling sorry for myself. I was able to overcome those circumstances that could be overcome and bear those that couldn’t. I felt proud because of that. But I forgot something important – how to have fun. Or rather, I forgot that it was still possible for me to have fun.

And it seemed to me that night, while I was watching him dance, that if you want to truly embrace life, you cannot forget to have fun.

So the other night, while I was standing at the bar, stiff as a board, for some reason, I remembered this experience. I looked back on it and felt fortunate that I was able to witness it.

I knew that I wouldn’t be able to relax this time, so I went home and promised myself that I would have fun next time.

Of course I’m joking.

I got on the dance floor and started dancing like I was blind. Blind to all my insecurities, all my internal barriers and defense mechanisms, all my worries and anxieties.

And I had more fun than I had in a long, long time.

I hope that this story reminds you to have fun. Maybe you rarely go out, maybe that’s not your thing. But maybe today, while you are driving to work or picking up your kids from school, you turn the music up and sing your heart out. Maybe, no matter how much you are struggling right now, you open your heart to the possibility that this life still has some beauty, joy, and fun to offer you.

Thank you for reading.

Stay strong, love life, and never feel sorry for yourself.

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