Smooth and glamorous, my hubby and I lightly flow across the dance floor. Imagining dressed in a romantic gown I feel like a fairy tale princess in a ballroom. Quick step music lifts us off the ground and we are eternally young.
We pass a window and I get a glimpse of an awkward middle aged couple dancing in a warn out school gym. Pop. The magic is broken. Reality kicks in. Who am I kidding. Yes, we know some steps, yes, we remember some routines, yes, we have practiced, but it's nothing like what you have seen in a ballroom. I think our teacher has to be permanently on painkillers to endure how far off we are from what she knows is a beautiful dance. We are like malfunctioning characters. When we remember toes, knees and hips, we forget the frame. When we get the frame and the steps right, we don't let the music bother us and dance to our own beat. It seems that we have limited dance memory and something is always erased when new information is added.
But whose there to judge? We are not competing. We are not aiming for a trophy. We are not planning to show our dance to anyone.
Dancing, dancing, dancing. The two of us. For the fun of it. Let me live in my fairy tale.
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Like with dancing I am millions years off from what I wish I could do. And again, whose here to judge?
All I write are small snippets of my life, usually raw, composed in the head while walking to a train station or chopping carrots or washing dishes; typed between a dinner and evening news; rarely revised because revision time is luxury. I can honestly say that I don't have writerly agonizing pain from searching for the perfect idea, nor hour long battles with my inner critic, nor torturous headaches from chiselling delicate words. I can't afford it if I want to show up every day.
I am not trying to change the world. I don't strive for a Pulitzer prize.
I am not writing a book, not a short story, not even an article.
My writing is for me and the small circle of friends in a writing community. My words send small ripples. Maybe a smile, a thought, an encouragement, a bit of inspiration.
Writing, writing, writing. For the fun of it. Let me live my creative life.
World has plenty of room for dancers and writers of all kind.
It's good to write & dance to your own music and in your dream world. That's called being creative and innovative. I could just picture you and your husband in that fairy tale ballroom twirling and moving to your own beat. And I truly enjoy those short snippets of your life that you share each day.
ReplyDeleteFirst thing, don't look in that window at your reflection. When you pass the window, close your eyes and remember the vision in your head. Second thing, your words do send ripples out into the world, many are in awe of the insight you share. You sent that critic voice away, your creative voice still lies within you and you let it breathe when you dance and write.
ReplyDeleteI love this and I agree with Elsie don't look in the window just dance! I love this writing piece. Thanks for sharing your words with us!
ReplyDeleteI loved dancing with my husband, no matter what beat or how we did, but I was with him & we were enjoying the music, too. I also enjoyed what you wrote, sure of yourself, sharing your life, carrots and peas and all the rest. I remember your slices because they are you, Terje. Thanks for sharing this loving post for all slicers.
ReplyDeleteVery nice slice...keep dancing (for the fun!) and keep writing (living your creative life!)
ReplyDeleteIt's as if this slice was written for me. Thanks for this. We will share the same dancing and writing, both a little off kilter. Ha!
ReplyDeleteTwo beautiful slices in one! Love the magic ballroom dancing. I was living your dream too ... until pop! But then I still saw a beautiful couple enjoying the evening dancing like no one is watching. Then the comparison to yourself as a writer ... yes, yes, and yes! Love your honesty of about your writing and dancing ... because I agree: The world has plenty of room for dancers and writers of all kind!
ReplyDeleteI love watching ballroom dancing because I know I could never do it. The comparison between dancing and writing is spot on. I just read a quote by Mother Teresa about throwing a pebble in and the ripples affecting people. You do just that with your words. Thank you for giving me a "smile, a thought, and encouragement, a bit of inspiration."
ReplyDeleteYour reflection here is wonderful. I'm not on the dance floor, but there are times when music just makes me want to move. And I do. My daughter is horrified. I suppose I would be too if I caught a glimpse in the mirror. So I try to avoid them and keep the image I see in my mind's eye.
ReplyDeleteLove the connection you made to writing. So true. I sit here at the keyboard, having fun with it. For th pure joy of it!