Dancing a Nancy

Falling out of a world of lies,
Could I have been dancing a Nancy?
Could I have been anyone other than me?

Dave Matthews got it right. I can dream about being someone else, but I am who I am. And if, I could be dancing Nancies. And with some soul searching, I am. Really. So I still am who I am. Dancing with a Nancy. If you don’t get it, check her – that being Nancy – on the internet.

I can remember one of the first singles – You know? Turn table? Vinyl records? – I ever owned; it was by Bob Dylan. I don’t remember the title, but can sing the last verse verbatim:

I am not going to work on Maggie’s farm no more
Well, I try my best
To be just like I am
But everybody wants you
To be just like them
They say sing while you slave and I just get bored
I am not going to work on Maggie’s farm no more

Maggie is no Nancy, that’s clear. But she is luring and has the same charisma. Blindingly so.

Of course, in between I forgot about it and followed the brick road. A regular career, climbing to management heights, ever looking up at those people around me that “got it right”. Trying to reach that next level, like it is a game.

Thing is, I really don’t care about all that. It took me most of my professional life to recognize that it rather bores me. And to realize that whatever I do, I keep on bumping against these self important high flyers. Who are scared.

Just a thought: being scared kind off puts you in the realm of … prey.

Getting kicked of my feet – fired on a Thursday afternoon about a decade ago, 16:55 local time to be precise – helped opening my eyes.

A funny thing? Some ten years later I am doing better than ever, am comfortable in my position, being asked for advice, discussing a next assignment and generally having fun. And I’m not prey. Not even close to being that.

I’m dancing a Nancy and definitely not working on Maggie’s farm.