I was born into a family that loved to dance, so I didn’t
have a choice -
but to dance!
My parents loved to polka and I grew up with “The Bop” and “The
Stroll”. In junior high I did a lot of
dancing with our kitchen cupboard doors.
Anything to practice before the Friday night Tri Hi Y dances that took
place at our local YMCA. My four
brothers would roll their eyes as they passed through the kitchen. But that didn’t faze my desire to dance. I arrived
with my friends and as we lined the walls of the dance area we tried with
everything we had to not look like -
wallflowers.
Because that’s the last
thing you wanted to look like.
One by one the boys would come across the dance floor and as
you held your breath and
waited. . .
they walked right on
by. . .
and you tried to look cool and to act as if you didn’t even notice
or care because you were too busy in
conversation with your friends.
And then -
out of the corner of my eye I noticed one stopped directly
in front of me.
and there he was -
holding his hand out
to dance -
with me. . .
But there was this one time when a boy asked me to dance, before
I could stop myself, the word “no” tumbled out of my mouth because somewhere in
my mind I thought he just might be teasing
me and his buddies might be watching from across the dance floor.
Sometimes opportunities
come to us and because of fear we let them
pass us by. . .
Sometimes we’re
looking so far down the road that we miss what’s right
in front of us. . .
Sometimes we need to make space -
for the miracles to
happen. . .
And then sometimes,
we throw caution to the wind and with it ourselves
And we just dance.
. .
As I give a “nod” to 2014 and tumble into 2015
I leave you with this song -
“I Hope You Dance” by
Tia Stillers
I hope you still feel
small
When you stand by the
ocean. . .
Whenever one door
closes I hope one more opens
Promise me that you’ll
give faith a fighting chance.
And when you get the
choice to sit it out or dance -
I hope you’ll dance. .
.
I hope you’ll dance. .
.
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