Tuesday, July 13, 2010

The Dance

From the earliest time I held my first child, we danced. With a babe in arms, I would sway and hum moving to a rhythm of mother and child, a sway that captured me even as I rocked a baby to sleep.

As years progressed so did our dancing. With the toddlers, we rocked and rolled stumbling and tumbling, laughing, giggling and playing. Progressing with each new dance experience.

When my granddaughters got older, their father took them to the Daddy and Daughter Dances. In the arms of their father they would dance around the floor spinning and twirling, twirling right into memories of time alone with daddy.

My granddaughters and I have danced together their entire lives. We dance impromptu modern dances striking strange poses and moving in unusual choreography. We close our eyes and move with the rhythm of the music. We dance.

Yesterday I was talking with a piano teacher at the music store while perusing new piano music for the girls. He was interested in my rather unorthodox method of teaching piano. He mentioned that sometimes students find it hard to let their own creativity find its way to the keyboard. His interested led him to ask about the method I used to get Sydney to become free to express herself.

Gabby, Syd and I each chose a corner of the living room. When the music transitioned, I would call for the next person to move to the center of the room and do their own dance. We had always danced together so this was something new and a bit uncomfortable. Gabby danced with sheer abandon while Sydney was stiffer and reserved.

"I don't know how to do it, Grammy," Syd said discouraged with her efforts.

"Close your eyes and just listen to the music. There is no right or wrong," I replied.

After several tries, dimmed lights and supportive sister and Grams, she began to sway slowly at first gradually allowing her inner self to come to life. Eyes closed she found her inner beauty.

I explained to the piano teacher that from that point on the tension at the piano eased, and she embraced the music. Perhaps she understood it better.

So we dance a dance that began with a baby bundled in loving arms to one that will carry us through our lives.

The dance.

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