Let's Dance
"Let's Dance. Put on your red dress and dance the blues." --David Bowie
When I let my mind run wild with thoughts, I have so many confusing voices and conflicting stories that I stop and can't move. My brain locks. I see too many sides and places. I have tried to do the "pros" and "cons." At the end of my logical progression I have a headache.
I think I make decisions like I make stories. I see what is happening and I have a little time to plan for the next step. If I come up blank, I listen to the song in my head. When I wake up in the morning until I go to sleep at night I have a song that plays in my head. Sometimes I know the words, but mostly I just hear the melody.
"Under the moonlight, the serious moonlight."
Sometimes these little scraps of music give me enough clues that help me with the next step and the next step.
"Let's Dance."
When I went to college the first time I wanted to be a musician or a dancer. When I found that I had to pay extra for voice lessons, I went for the next option--dance classes. I tried ballet. Ballet is not for the older dancer. Twenty is too old for that form. I learned folk dance and square dances that were fun and made me breathless. My favorite were the ballroom dances. Of course there was a boy, who could dance. He was on the ballroom dance team and it felt like a dream when I danced with him.
"Tremble like a flower."
I found quickly enough that I was a good dancer, but I couldn't compete on the next level. It was a beautiful dream that faded away. I left college not too long afterwards because the money ran out. Then I went adventuring--first to South Africa, and then the Navy took me to Japan and Panama.
"Let's Dance."
"Let's Dance."
What brought this to mind recently was a dream. I was in a ballroom and I saw the boy that I used to dance with. He asked me to dance and I said yes. We whirled around until I could feel the heavenly spheres orbit around us. I remember saying, "I miss this--dancing with you."
No, the boy in the dream was not the boy I knew. It was my muse, showing me what I had been missing. It felt good and it felt right.