The first day of school, 2012. Our house is quiet, a few remnants of breakfast remain, cinnamon-kissed. I don't mind picking up these dishes, because it reminds me you were here, and that you are on your way. For reasons I can't identify, a singer I barely know is in my head. Lee Ann Womack (I think it is her song) repeats a few times, "I hope you dance." And it seems the perfect message, actually, for the start of this year. Dancing (the informal, let yourself go, respond to the music with no choreography kind) is not about where it gets you. You don't have to do what anyone else is doing, necessarily, though it can at moments connect you with someone else, and there's always the chance you join with someone, or lift them up if they need a partner or just a moment of eye contact, or if you do. You can "work" on your dance moves, if you want, if they matter to you, if they capture your spirit. It is not about success or failure. Dancing can be really... real. Sometimes, you can tune into yourself, and get your bearings. Sometimes you look around and feel the exchange of energy that happens with others expressing themselves. Sometimes you can stop thinking so much. This analogy has its flaws. It doesn't acknowledge some important and necessary expectations and realities. But in this moment, and because it's too easy to get lost in logistics and requirements, I hope you dance.
Balancing Act: This school year, dance. Whatever that means to you. At least a little.
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