I dance when I cook and I sing as I change diapers. As I go through my day my spirit emerges through a strange combination of song and dance, and no more so than when I am comfortable at home with my family. Am I known for changing the lyrics to any song to make them about my kids, I can use my kids names as any part of speech, try me, I dare you.
We have an aqua-blue high chair with owls on it, and I’ve used it to feed and nourish both my babies. I have a love/hate relationship with this chair, because although it holds fond memories, it’s a pain the butt to clean. Today as I glanced over at my son in the chair I saw him wiggling along to the music coming from my laptop. In that moment I realized that he was learning to dance, I actually saw his soul and spirit start to connect with his body in a happy little wiggle. It was marvelous, and I was captivated by the wiggly dance he was doing as he munched on his avocado and black bean snack.
I have to confess that I’ve felt depression and self-doubt creeping into the corners of my mind lately. I’ve had to fight to keep them at bay, I’ve had to breathe deep when life threatened to overwhelm me and make lists when it all seemed to pile up and threaten to burry me. So many balls in the air, so many unknowns, so much faith to find and energy to muster. More than a few fleeting thoughts of “why bother?”
Some days the learned and genetic anxiety that I have in my heart and my DNA is more prevalent, more annoying than others. The scales are tipping in the favor of freedom, but life is a journey and I have yet to arrive.
So today as I worried and chopped peppers I glanced over to see my son learning how to dance and instantly realized that it was a gift. Dancing is essential and it’s a way that my body reminds my soul that life is beautiful. My one year old gets it, but somewhere along the way too many of us forget. Do you dance when you think no one is watching? Do you sing in the shower in those moments when you feel unfettered and light in the warm sudsy rain?
Some days I find myself carrying out those practices to produce the joy I lack. I dance and sing to remind and remember. I fake it, until I make it.
Today was one of those days, so in ridiculous fashion I put on some lady gaga and rounded up the family for a little dance party.
When life feels huge, if we can swing it, maybe we should just dance?
Dance to remind ourselves that so much of what we feel trapped by can be forgotten or has been already removed by the cross. If only we would realize how light and free we really are. If only.
You’re free. You are. I am. We are.
Just breathe. Just dance, gonna be okay… da da doo.