Hooray, hooray – it’s time to dance!!
Finally I get to explore the alternative to piling boxes, and it seems it’s as wonderful as dancing. The more practical amongst us might say that dancing will never get those boxes sorted out, and I think that’s the point. I hope so anyway – I’ve had enough of boxes.
The oldest box I had found was from playschool when during breaktime I decided I would entertain everyone with a personal rendition of “I’m A Little Tea-Pot” complete with actions. I thought I’d start with a group of girls playing something-or-other, definitely less interesting than “I’m A Little Tea-Pot.” I got as far as “short and stout” when they told they weren’t interested. What?!! Well, that was my dancing career in ruins – devastated, I retreated to the corner. No more tea-pot!!
Well, this kind of stayed with me all subconsciously etc. until about a year after Mum died. I was thinking about her, missing her, trying to understand why and all that, when I felt her presence. Now I don’t know if she was there or not, I don’t know whether I believe she could be or not. And I don’t really care – it felt real, she felt real. She was there dancing, beautiful and free. And she said to me, “Dance your dance and sing you song with freedom, and don’t wait till you get here to do so.”
I can’t tell you the effect that had on me.
And since then I’ve been wondering what my dance looks like, what my song sounds like. And now I know that the dance is with God and the beautiful thing about dancing with God is that you never know what’s coming next. It’s so free, so fun, so childlike – dancing like a five-year old, as I’ve discovered.
Anyway, I’m sure other people’s dreams of life with God will be different from dancing. For some it might be flying a spaceship, surfing a wave or eating a big cream bun. It’s probably all of these and so much more.
So when I was remembering my time in playschool, I decided to see what would happen if I knew what I knew now, if my Mum were beside me then with her words of wisdom. And you know what – I changed history. The girls were still at first uninterested, but as I kept dancing, kept singing, they started to join in. In fact, everyone joined in and it became a bit of a musical extravaganza.
You see, dancing is contagious – you can’t help but join in. (Unless you’re a Korean soldier – they’re very strict on these kind of things, apparently.)
