Shall we dance

or how I left my isolation

Photo by Leon Liu on Unsplash

The Las Vegas fall slowly creeped into my awareness with lower temperatures of eighty and ninety, luring me outside. A restlessness shuddered through me and I would pace around my apartment complex.

My dog would try to keep up with her short little legs. Her pace was between a walk and run with her tail half mast.

The last few months and years with the pandemic lockdown and my health issues, I’ve spent too much time alone and isolated. To keep my mind sane, I have spent a lot of time online, making friends and enemies on the internet social sites. So I’ve spent too many hours of the day, sitting on my stuffed rocking chair, reading, and watching youtube videos.

It’s funny how age and illness has stopped me in my tracks. When I was younger, I was very active. I don’t think I ever sat down. I was either cleaning the house, making food, watching kids or after I left home and after work I’d be at the gym.

There was a brief moment in my twenties when I had gone to college for a few semesters and I indulged in my two loves. These were before I met my late-husband. The first one was music and the second was dance.

I lost both of them while I was living. It seemed I didn’t have time for either one when I was in the Navy. Oh yes, I would go to the club dances and I was very energetic, but no one there knew how to ballroom dance. It was more like a mosh pit.

I’ve said before in one of my essays that what got me into dance was a boy. He was on the BYU dance team. I never made the dance team although I tried. However, I got to dance with a lot of guys who were.

There is something about a man who can lead you in a dance. It is commanding and comforting at the same time. I can let go of my nature for just a moment. I have this need to be in control— of my health, my life, my dog. It is a relief to give that control over to someone who knows what they are doing.

For a moment I can be happy without being in charge.

There was a flip in my thinking this year. I have spent many years grieving over the death of my husband. Now I am looking past that. The memories don’t overwhelm me or stab me into submission. I can see that I am here and that there are other people in my world.

So Monday I decided to leave my warm cocoon and go to a ballroom dance class. The instructor, Jonathan, put me through my paces. I remembered how to club swing and waltz. I was not as secure on the foxtrot. And he even showed me the tango basics.

My entire body sings when I think of how I felt on that dance floor. His firm grip, his hand on my back, the signals I could feel as we moved—how can I explain joy in movement? The more I moved— the more I shone.

I became the sun.

So if you want to keep me dancing and shining, go to my givesendgo and please give a dollar or two.