Why Do I Dance?
On the dance floor with a partner I have to be totally
in the moment. My attention cannot waver. I am cognizant that I must
fire my abdominal muscles, make sure my head is aligned with my trunk
and that my hand and arm muscles are taut but relaxed and prepared for
the next signal from the hand of my partner. I must forget that I’m a
single mother, that my 10-year old son has autism, and that my two
younger daughters have a gymnastics competition the next morning, that I
drive a blue minivan, that the dog needs a bath and laundry needs to be
folded. I slip into a vortex created by the alternating pitch and rhythm
of the music and explode out the other side where I have no other
purpose in life except to dance.