When you are in the mind, how can you sing? The mind creates misery; out of misery there can be no song. When you are in the mind, how can you dance? Yes, you can go through certain empty gestures called dance, but it is not a real dance.
Only a Meera knows a real dance, or a Krishna, or a Chaitanya. These are the people who know real dance. Others know only the technique of dancing, but there is nothing overflowing; their energies are stagnant. People who are living in the mind are living in the ego, and the ego cannot dance. It can make a performance but not a dance.
The real dance happens only when you have become a witness. Then you are so blissful that the very bliss starts overflowing – that is the dance. The very bliss starts singing; a song arises on its own accord. And only when you are a witness can you taste life.
I can understand your question. You are worried that by becoming a witness one will become merely a spectator of life. No, to be a spectator is one thing, and to be a witness a totally different thing, qualitatively different.
A spectator is indifferent, he is dull, he is in a kind of sleep. He does not participate in life. He is afraid, he is a coward. He stands by the side of the road and simply goes on seeing others living. That’s what you are doing all your life: somebody else acts in a movie and you see. You are a spectator! People are glued to their chairs for hours together before their TVs – spectators. Somebody else is singing, you are listening. Somebody else is dancing, you are just a spectator. Somebody else is loving and you are just seeing. You are not a participant. Professionals are doing what you should have done on your own.
A witness is not a spectator. Then what is a witness? A witness is one who participates yet remains alert. A witness is in a state of wu-wei. That is Lao Tzu’s word: it means action through inaction. A witness is not one who has escaped from life. He lives in life, lives far more totally, far more passionately, but yet remains deep down a watcher; goes on remembering that, “I am a consciousness.”
Try it walking on the road: remember that you are a consciousness. Walking continues – and a new thing is added, a new richness is added, a new beauty. Something interior is added to the outward act. You become a flame of consciousness, and then the walking has a totally different joy to it; you are on the earth and yet your feet are not touching the earth at all.
That’s what Buddha has said: Pass through a river, but don’t let the water touch your feet.