Dance Lessons

I don’t suffer through my existence anymore, trying to do my best. I glide through it. I jump. I leap. I dance with life and let her take the lead.

She spins me a bit too hard sometimes and drops me on the floor, on my face, but she also lifts me up so high that I can see the stars. And when I’m down, I can touch the fabric of the earth, the roots of the trees growing in the ground.

There’s a shift in perspective that can happen when, instead of focusing on the pain in your head when you hit a wall, you use that moment to explore the close-up of this structure. How is it made? Why is it there? And why did I hit it?

In the dance of life, did I miss a step, or did she pull me a bit too hard?

I used to think that maybe she was a bit harsh sometimes. I always saw the learnings, but it didn’t need to be rude. Now I see that she’s never wrong. She never misses a step. In fact, she’s the best dancer in the ballroom, the ultimate master. How lucky of me to be dancing with her. How grateful.

And yet, I still fall on my face. I don’t think I ever won’t. It’s part of the learning.

And maybe the most important thing to learn here is that these classes are not about graduating. They’re not about that gorgeous diploma we can hang on the walls after this, because these walls are for knocking down, not for showing up, showing off titles — and the falls are for rising.

There is no misstep, only movement.

And maybe these lessons are not about the technique or the steps, but about how to stop trying to predict the beat — to take life’s hand and freestyle, and flow, to laugh, to cry, to enjoy these lessons as we dance through the seasons and the land, as we meet others also learning from their own masters, different styles, different beats, letting that be joyous too.

There is no crowd in the grandstands or point system here. It is just a big, mixed classroom of all topics and levels, doing their best.