Dance Where You’re Planted.

He sways. He gets that look frozen on his little face that is a goofy half smile with the far-away eyes. He shifts his weight back and forth, back and forth as the music plays. Somewhat timid, somewhat shy… exploring movement to sounds. This is new for him, this dancing. Before, when music would play, he would seem uninterested at best- he would plug his ears and whine more likely. But now, now he is a dancing fool. In the car, at home, in the store. Always the same sway and the same look on his face. And I just can’t help but laugh and giggle with him and sway along too. I’m teaching him to pump his arms and incorporate twirling into his routine. And we always end by touching our toes. Because why not? There is something POWERFUL in dancing. Something that breaks loose, something that breaks free every time you do it. I love that he is learning, exploring. I love that I am relearning too.

At church on Sunday, there was much dancing. The children started it- gathered in the empty space in the middle of all the chairs. Others joined in. A quick movement to my left, and then there was my husband- dancing his heart out in the space in front of my chair. And I just couldn’t stop crying because it was like watching something so profound and amazing that I couldn’t fit it all in. It was like seeing him shed some old skin before my very eyes.

I want to dance through life… in and out and between the way things “should” go. I want to be where my dreams will come true- even if it’s not beautiful or glamorous or by an ocean. I think often it is good to move and break free and grow your own roots somewhere new. It’s healthy. But it should never be a quick fix or a bandaid for some underlying emptiness. Because, at the end of this life, it won’t make a heap of difference where I lived, but how I lived and what I did with the short time I was given.

So, for now, I’m dancing here- in my little house in Oklahoma City. I never thought I would live here, but about three years ago I made a promise that I would never hold on to a place tighter than I would hold onto my calling, my dreams. You can have your ocean! I am meant to be here- learning to write and love and pour myself out. I am able to stay home with my son, I am able to watch him learn to dance to cheesy grocery store music in the middle of the afternoon. I am able to demonstrate a life that blooms no matter where it’s planted… that doesn’t allow a place to dictate one iota of my happiness or sense of satisfaction. I want my son to see me this way.

All the days of my life.

7 thoughts on “Dance Where You’re Planted.

  1. Dance Em, Dance with all your heart and soul. You are a faithful momma, wifey and friend. I love you. Hey, you’re coming out here soon aren’t you? I am excited to see your face.By the way, are you still growing your hair?Love Harm(I forgot my password, so i had to post as ‘anonymous..oops. So many stinkin passwords to remember)

  2. Me and the little rugrat do our own shakin’ o’ the booty on a regular basis. Of course, I can never dance as long or as hard as she wants me to. Man, if Solid Gold dancers were still around, she’d be out there throwing her groove-thing every which way. I hope she doesn’t lose that.

  3. So happens, just before I sat down to read this I was dancing with my Ipod turned up really LOUD and I think Jaxon saw me …. !! egad …

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