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The Dance
of Life
Welcome once again to The
Lesson Guy's newsletter. It's February 1st and I'm still recovering a bit
from the holidays and in this mood of looking back to 2008 while also
looking forward to 2009.
Part of my reminiscing took me back several years. Some of those
long-time-ago memories are the best. One particular Epiphany Sunday, each
of us who attended church received a large, blue star - a symbol of the
light that surrounds this particular Sunday of the Christian calendar. Each
star had a simple word written on it, a word we could not see until after
we picked our star and turned it over. We were asked to keep the word found
on our star in our hearts and minds throughout the coming year and see how
that word influences our lives. On my star was the word "dance."
I
love to dance; however, only recently have I realized the importance of my
being a participant in the dance of life. I've been on the sidelines
listening to the music, waiting to see if anyone would ask me to dance. In
my first book, Lessons from the Porch: A Gathering Place for
Telling Our Stories, I
describe as a metaphor, the porch that surrounded the two sides of the
house I grew up in. Every time I went onto the porch, Mom would
say, "Eddie, don't get too close to the edge of the porch. If you
do, you might fall off."
Until recently, during the writing of my second book, I didn't understand
what Mom was telling me. She didn't say I couldn't get off the
porch, she just wanted to protect me while I was on the porch. Because I
didn't understand mom's reason for that statement, I allowed the porch to
become a metaphor for how I do and do not accept changes in my life. At
times, I was afraid to "get off the porch" and try something new
and different.
My
thoughts turned to a dear friend of mine, Greg Asimakoupoulos, a minister
in the northwest part of Washington. Greg wrote a poem for me that in part
said: "Did your mother know when she told you not to chance
that you'd never learn to dance with all those opportunities for growth all
dressed for the prom? Damn! She didn't. And neither did you!" It has only been in the last
few years that I've begun to dance the dance of life.
As
I continued thinking about the word on my blue star, I was reminded of the
words of Thoreau, "If a man does not keep pace with his companions,
perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the
music he hears, however measured or far away." I realized when I
"step to the music" I hear, I'm dancing.
I
began to realize that dance is a good
word for describing our lives. Our loves are a dance. We are constantly
dancing a delicate balance among several of life's paradoxes, such as
making decisions that are growth-producing and growth-limiting; honoring
both our light and shadow sides; taking care of ourselves and taking care
of others; leaving and receiving legacies; living on the porch and living
off the porch; giving love and receiving love; moving through the
wilderness journeys while living in them long enough to learn; enjoying the
journey while living toward a destination - a place we'll never find;
taking risks while feeling safe; understanding being in relation to doing,
waiting, and taking action; wearing masks and being transparent.
I
was also reminded of this delicate balance in the dance of life as I
recalled the words of Charles Dickens, contained in A Tale of
Two Cities. Dickens
talks about the best of times and the worst of times, the age of wisdom and
the age of foolishness, the season of light and the season of darkness, the
spring of hope and the winter of despair - as well as others. When we are
fully aware, savoring each moment, we dance with these and other paradoxes
in our lives. For me, it is in the stillness of life that the dancing
occurs.
I
also thought of a beautiful song by Lee Ann Womak titled "I Hope You
Dance." In part, the lyrics say, "Whenever one door closes I hope
one more opens. Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance, and when
you get the choice to sit it out or dance, I hope you dance."
I
hope all of us can look forward to the dance of life with joy,
anticipation, and wonder. Furthermore, I hope we all continue to be
conscious participants in that dance, in 2009 and beyond.
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