Dancing, huh?  Not a bad idea at all.  He closed his eyes and, feeling the white light of the moon on his skin, began to dance all by himself.  He drew his breath deep into his lungs and exhaled just as deeply.  Unable to think of a song to match his mood, he danced in time with the stirring of the grass and the flowing of the clouds.  Before long, he began to feel that someone, somewhere, was watching him.  His whole body—his skin, his bones—told him with absolute certainty that he was in someone’s field of vision.  So what?  He thought.  Let them look if they want to, whoever they are.  All God’s children can dance.

Haruki Murakami