Nothing Left in Reserve

Without really intending to, I got hooked on “Britain’s Got Talent”. That’s not actually true – I got just hooked on George Sampson, the last act to perform in one of semi-finals this week. I have recorded his street-dance routine and have watched it over and over again. I have no intentions of becoming a groupy, but had I been one of the panel of judges, or the presenters or the producers of the show, I would have called it a day. As George himself said, in his interview afterwards, “It doesn’t get any better than that.”

So for those of you who missed it, what did he do? Well, he left the belly dancing and the magic tricks to others. He danced! The track was a really up-beat version of “Singing in the Rain.” He did it better than Gene Kelly! Mid-way through the routine, there was a flash of lightning, and a rumble of thunder – and then it rained! (Some credit has got to go to the TV programme providing the setting to his diamond of a dance. The shower of water, the lightning flash and thunder that they supplied all added to what he did. The effect would not have been as spectacular without those things.) For a few moves, he played with an umbrella, then he just tossed it aside and danced!

It was amazing! There was so much energy and passion and complete commitment to every move. Obviously there had been a whole lot of choreography and rehearsal, but that can only take you so far. Knowing the right moves and being able to do them in the right order is just the framework. George poured his life and soul into the performance. This was his one chance, an opportunity never to be repeated, perhaps, and he threw everything that he had into the dance.

I was thinking about the energy, passion and complete commitment of George and he made me want to get up and dance! I wanted to be with him on stage, in that shower of water, twisting and turning, flinging my arms around and just being entirely lost in the moment.

I am challenged that in so much of what I do – whether in my relationships, or in the various environments that I inhabit or the things that consume my time, I am, in comparison, luke-warm.

At the end of George’s dance he had nothing left to give. There had been no holding back. If his performance didn’t earn him a place in the final – well, there was nothing else he could do. He left nothing in reserve. There was no Plan B. That was absolutely everything.

I don’t operate like that. I know there is always more to give. I know that there is always something kept in reserve. There is always a Plan B lurking in the shadows.

Is it an age thing? Is George so passionate because he still young? I was going to write that George doesn’t know about knock-backs and bruises – but he does. He was not a new face to the competition, having entered last year. He never made it through the various rounds. He didn’t give up then. He worked hard to improve his act and came back the following year with something better! He must have been convinced it was there and was prepared to put himself through the auditions a second time to show people. Had he got turned away a second time, I believe that her would have turned up the following year – better.

I want to pour that much more of me into everything that I do. I want to have nothing left over, nothing held in reserve. It’s a tall order, for a naturally slothful personality like mine – but knowing that I did everything I could have done, I want to be able to say “It doesn’t get any better than that.”