Dance- It has been awhile since I’ve written on the page. Much of my focus has turned to the Podcast. So, if you prefer written word over spoken then I apologize for the lack of content. Hopefully you will enjoy this story.
I’ve made it clear in many of my messages that I try to be more present when I am out in the world. Recently, I was glad to have had that approach.
My wife and I were at the local brewery listening to a band that our neighbor leads. We were enjoying the music quietly much like most of the other patrons. Some were swaying in their seats, some were using the music as a backdrop for their conversation. Very few people were dancing. Maybe it was too early to dance. Either way, my wife tapped my shoulder and asked me to look across the seating area to an elderly lady entering the entertainment area. She was being escorted by a younger man, maybe her son, who was helping her to keep her balance. As she walked to within earshot of the music she looked as though she couldn’t help but to dance. A huge smile was across her face as she moved to the rhythm as best she could while trying to maintain support on her escort. By looking at her I wished I could loan her a younger body that could really let loose with the ability to dance. Instead, she was constrained by a frail body. Limited to short bursts of movement. I don’t mean to make her sound miserable. In fact she was the very opposite.
There was no trace of animosity towards a body that couldn’t operate like she would want it. Rather, her happiness and connection to the music manifested itself in her face. Face and eyes tell a story, especially one like hers. Of course, much of this is left to my interpretation but I saw a woman who had 50-60 years of dancing in her past, maybe more. A woman who wouldn’t let lack of mobility interfere with her desire to dance. She would shake her shoulders, swing her hands, and convey to the world how happy she was to be there through those eyes and that smile. Naturally, she was led to a seat to take a rest while some other patrons danced on the grassy area in front of the band. Her swaying continued while she was seated. My wife and I were in awe of her passion. It was just something that you could feel, if you were looking for it.
A short while later another younger patron, maybe mid forties approached her and asked her to dance. The grass was too uneven for her so he made sure to clear a spot on the wooden deck. They danced together in a small space between tables filled with people. He was so gentle with her. Expertly navigating the deck, table, and people in order to best let her express herself through her dance. All while maintaining a strong base for her to lean on, if needed.
I’m a major softy when it comes to witnessing events like this, my wife is no better. With moist eyes I thought about the type of person I want to be. The type of people I want to be surrounded by. This tiny, elderly dancer doesn’t know it, but she cast a major challenge to my wife and I. As did the younger dance partner.
Will we make the most of our circumstances? Will we continue to dance through our life even when our vehicle isn’t running like it used to? Will we leave our passions in the past or carry them with us?
Are we going to continue the selfishness of our own independent movement, or use our abilities to lift up those less able?