In Wild at Heart John Eldredge suggests that there is something about the masculine heart that can only be found in the wilds. Now, I'm not exactly sure how literally he means that, but I've found for myself that what he says about wildness is true. Which is why I love to dance.

Dance has meant many things to me while I've been at Stanford, and I begin to suspect that it will become the Testimony of the latter half of my Stanford career - the Great Fact; the single most important reason, in the narrative of God's work in my life at this school, why I had to come to Stanford and couldn't go anywhere else. Dance has meant the redemption of my friendship with Blue Rose; it has meant chivalry; it has meant healing of my geek's heart; it has meant romance.

Now it means wildness. Whether I'm dancing at Friday Night Waltz with Duchess and friends I don't have blognames for, on Thursday nights with other friends I don't have blognames for, or at Jammix with lots of friends I do have blognames for, there is something wild, something unfettered and free, about the experience of dance. Not romantic. Pre-romantic.

A year or two ago I discovered that God met with me in the aftermath of a dance, alone in the cold and the moon and the stars. I begin to suspect why. Since he first called to Adam our God has loved to meet with people in the wilds. And even in the Silicon Valley, clearly he still does.