In the middle of a busy weekend I attended a great dinner party Saturday. While we were at the table, still digesting the delicious turkey and dressing (and ham and greens and yams and...) one of the guests told me that she had long wanted to write a book but didn’t know how to start. She had stories to tell, but feared that when she put them on paper they would be terrible. I tried to be encouraging but never seemed to find the right words to get her started.

After dinner our host played DJ and everybody hit the floor. Well, almost everybody. I am, as my lovely wife Dee will gleefully tell you, somewhat rhythmically challenged. I’m fine with singing karaoke but the boogie man I am not. Of course Dee eventually coaxed me to my feet. I was self-conscious at first, but looking around I finally realized that everyone was too busy doing their own thing to judge me. Then I realized that what my wife told me that night was just what I should have told my reluctant writer.

Nobody cares if you can't dance well. Just get up and dance.

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