I'm a terrible dancer. I have no sense of rhythm and can't remember any dance moves to save my life. In college, I took two semesters of dance classes, but I can't even remember the names of the courses, much less the dances I learned.
No matter. Right now in my life I'm dancing my heart out. I'm learning to left foot-right foot and not put my feet in one circle too long. I'm learning how thin I can stretch before I have to curl back inside of myself. I'm learning how much weight my stretched shoulders can carry and what has to fall off.
Though I don't have musical rhythm, some days I catch a glimpse of what it must be like. Some days I dance from school to work to school to homework to dinner to monitoring bedtime activities and still have enough energy to have a coherent conversation with Adam when he gets home from work. Some days I stand up tall because I know I danced that day. I was able to balance on the right foot while stretching with my left arm to stir the dinner pot. I was able to balance it all without falling over.
Other days I have to recoil. I have to force myself to sit and breathe and appreciate. I have to take a nap. I have to read a book for sheer pleasure. I have to stop the clock and refocus before I'm able to proceed. These moments of relaxation, renewal, and refreshment are just as important as the times I'm fully-engaged with life.
Life is so short.
Occasionally I dance on autopilot. Out of sheer exhaustion or overwhelm, I just keep moving and going through the motions until they make sense. The fabulous and fascinating part of just putting one foot in front of the other and trying to make sense of it all is that some days it works! The children will say something beautiful or share a concern and I will shout with joy because they have grasped the concept. Yesterday Paul cleaned his room on his own accord and I was as excited as the two times I met Anne Lamott!
On days of overwhelm, I remember the other people on the dance floor with me. I'm not dancing by myself and I have several loved ones I can lean on. This weekend I spent 12 hours on Saturday at a church event. It was important to be there, but then I woke up Sunday morning and realized Paul was out of pants because I didn't get to do the laundry. I later confessed to Adam that I was overwhelmed with my weekend duties and last night we spent a couple of hours and hung and folded every piece of laundry in the house. Engineer that he is, the folded laundry looks so much neater when he does it. Today I have empty laundry baskets and I am so grateful.
My life is dancing, and just when I catch my breath and sync with the rhythm, the song changes. I never get bored.
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