Take Me Home

A dear childhood friend texted me the other day, "I'm listening to John Denver and dancing in my kitchen, and I thought of you." Fair to say, we did a lot of listening to John Denver and dancing in our youth. We danced with abandon in the living room, practicing for hours then putting on performances. We had such confidence in our abilities.

Neither of us grew up to be professional dancers. That was never the goal. We danced because we loved to dance.

Like all the rest of us, my friend is stuck at home, but instead of going stir crazy, she's dancing. Making the most of it. Pulling out the oldies and reconnecting with friends.

I was inspired to tune into my John Denver Pandora station, and was gifted with "You Fill Up My Senses" "Annie's Song," and "Leaving on a Jet Plane," interspersed with some great James Taylor, Carole King, and Jim Croce. I knew every word to every song.

But I doubted myself. I listened and sang and before I let the words out, I asked myself, Are those really the lyrics? Then, I sang something else that was wrong, because I didn't believe I knew in my bones what was right.

As my friend Ilonka Michelle O'Neil says, "Metaphor much?"

She also says, "This breath in. This breath out." She's a yoga teacher (among other things). She has taught me much through the years of our long-distance friendship. One need not be close to be close. 

My friends teach me. I teach my friends. We teach each other. We breathe in. We breathe out. We sing the words to songs we know in our hearts.

And we dance wherever life finds us.