When I was a little girl, I loved dancing. I was never more myself, and never more happy, than when I was dancing. So happy, in fact, that I convinced myself (by some weird childhood logic) that if I gave up the thing I loved the most then all the bad things would stop. So I stopped dancing. But the bad things didn’t stop. By the time I figured out that the bad things wouldn’t stop it was too late. I’d already slipped into a very dark place. 20+ years later and only now am I seeing these things for what they were. Too late. Too late.
Not that I think I would ever have made it as a professional dancer. But I could maybe have been a choreographer. As a child I used to
boss my friends around be the ‘director’ of multiple plays and performances in our back garden. I loved it. Nowadays, dancing, performing and drama have no place in my life at all, other than what my little Chip does. Que sera sera. No good worrying over spilt milk, as they say – and it really is true. The past is the past is the past. Gone. No amount of mourning will bring it back, nor will it change the future. Live for today, that’s all that matters. It may all be gone tomorrow. I wonder if we will dance, like I sometimes imagine, when we get to heaven? Can you imagine dancing before God?
And David danced before the Lord with all his might… 2 Samuel 6:14
Anyway, taking my own advice: today, I love to watch dance. I imagine the sheer joy of the dancer in the synaesthesia of music and movement. Like this:
Weird lyrics… but I like the choreography, especially the leaps and jumps. They are phenomenal! How I would love to watch this dancer in real life. Beautiful.