Dancing Your Joy

When my sister started college in September, I told her I’d take a class with her. Unfortunately, most of her classes were in the daytime, while I was busy home-schooling my daughter. So, she suggested an African Dance class on Friday nights. At first I said no. I’ve got a pretty funky rhythm, one that doesn’t conform to any recognizable dance patterns. Oh, there was a trail of reasons. But, in the end, none of them really made sense. So, before I could think about it any further, I said yes. Every Friday we walked to class together and danced together for three hours. I needed it. Darkness was swallowing me. I needed to bring some light into my body. It was great fun. Our dance group was wonderful, the teacher was fantastic, and there were live drummers! The only thing I didn’t like was when we had to lead a dance move—and the mounting dread about the final performance. Since the final wasn’t required, I decided that I wouldn’t do it. No, uh-uh, no way. My sister, as usual, was very understanding. She would do it whether I did it or not. After wrestling with this No Monster that lives in me, I said yes. The Monster was still there backstage, subdued, but not without great force. It was scary. But I did it and am thankful. I’m thankful for my sister. I am inspired by her willing and open spirit. Thank you for dancing your joy, sis. And HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!!!