This morning I awoke thinking about a lady I never really knew. In fact, I only saw her a few times at dances years ago.
When I was younger I loved to dance, swinging and swirling to peppy music, interpreting the joy within the melody and beat, feeling the joy of a young, vibrant body producing endorphins as a by-product of exercise. It was more invigorating than a long run in the morning dew.
Ah, the dancing. I wasn’t good at it, but I went to dances and hoped to find at least a few people willing to overlook my lack of talent and share my exuberance. If no dance partners were forthcoming, I had to just sit and listen to the music. The joy was greatly diminished.
But the lady in my thoughts this morning didn’t wait for dance partners; she didn’t allow the lack of partners to control her joy. This old gal would get up and glide and swirl around the dance floor by herself despite the snickering, laughing people. She’d close her eyes and glide, smile as she swirled, and ignoring the rude hicks, she seemed to enjoy herself far more than the dancers constrained by partners.
I don’t remember, but perhaps I laughed with the rest. I do remember feeling embarrassed for her and terribly, terribly sorry for her, as she not only lacked dancing partners but seemed to have no friends. I remember watching her, awe-stricken at her courage. I don’t think I was any shrinking violet, but I certainly did not have the courage to dance without a partner, to take responsibility for my own joy.
As I look back, I respect that courage even more than I did at the time. I don’t know her story, not even her name. I suspect, though, that she had a life partner at one time, perhaps even a family. She could have chosen to be a sad, solitary, old lady. And perhaps she was most of the time. But in that moment, she danced. In that moment, she took responsibility for own joy and faced life on her own terms. She did not sit around waiting for a dance partner; she danced. She did not let circumstances control her; she just danced.
This year our extended family has been bombarded with deaths, medical crises, and personal trauma, but when I awoke with this lady on my mind, a lady I haven’t thought of in years, I realized we all have a choice – in this moment, we can dwell on the events of the past year or we can embrace the joy of Christmas – the birth of Christ.
We don’t need a dance partner, we need courage. We don’t need a young, vibrant body, we need heart. We’ve had a tough year, but tomorrow we can face our problems, our grief. In this moment, let’s open our hearts to joy and let our souls dance.
It is Christmas.
In this blessed moment, let’s dance.
Snooky Kaye Dec 2010
