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Sometimes I wonder if it is the safety of a three minute dance that lets me feel free enough to express/expose myself…
It wasn’t always this way…
I can remember a life when I wasn’t so afraid…
But in the dance at least…I’m learning to let go.
At times it’s still difficult but when those moments of paralyzation hit me I know that it will be over soon enough no matter how frightening it seems…
And so I find a way to keep moving my feet, even if I lose the rhythm for a step or two or three…
Mabye the trick is to dance our life in three minute increments…
Then it wouldn’t be quite so scary…
And you could avoid eating half a box of chocolates just because you’re afraid to look someone in the eyes.
Because eye contact is not a necessary evil when dancing tango…unless you want it to be.
And no, I don’t dance anything like the girl in this video…but I can dream.
Oh, and I do have a pair of red shoes…
Which is better? A set of speakers
missing a power button, or wondering when
someone is going to come and
turn you on
by pressing plastic in, twisting
your torse to the left?
~Claire Donato
It’s just the cold hard truth…
Even our wedding vows state “Until death do us part…”
But that doesn’t mean that it’s always been my fault when people in my life have left…
Or that I have to live everyday planning for the eventual departure of everyone in my life…
Or holding my breath when I see an email or a familiar number on my phone…
And it certainly doesn’t mean that I have any fault in my father’s absence from my life.
After all, he never wanted me in the first place.
And that’s his loss…
Because, honestly…what could I have possibly done before I was even born?
So, it is just possible that the people who are in my life today actually want to be in my life…
And maybe they’re not all harboring secret escape plans…
And maybe there is room for me to make mistakes (even really big ones)…
And maybe there is such a thing as forgiveness (as it relates to myself)…
And maybe there really isn’t such a thing as “too ugly”…
I still struggle with the inherent belief that I was born a sinner and unclean…even though I am told otherwise everytime I look into my daughter’s eyes.
I still struggle with half of my universe not even wanting my existence…even though I know that it had nothing to do with me.
I still struggle with letting anyone in close to me because I have this belief that eventually I will be “too much” or “not enough” and they’ll leave…
(…and dammit, I’ll leave first.)
On a happier note, I’ve got today off and so far I’ve spent it baking sundried tomato/olive bread and simulating something resembling a tango around the groceries that I’ve still yet to put away…
I’ll be dancing soon. Yes sirree Bob…just as soon as I can pivot on my ankle again. It would be the loveliest Christmas present…
I wonder if…
…it takes more trust than courage to lay bare your ugly secrets.
Perhaps it depends on just what those secrets are…
And perhaps who you’ve been hiding them from…
And what the cost is of being found out…
Of course, one could just not do things that one has to hide…
But when you’re looking backward it’s always so much clearer isn’t it?
Here’s hoping that my ugly isn’t ‘over the limit’…
And here’s to not hiding anymore…
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