I Hope You Dance
"I hope you never lose your sense of wonder. You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger. May you never take one single breath for granted. God forbid love ever leave you empty handed. I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean. 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 You Dance" - Lee Ann Womack
This time of year, every year since I can remember, I sit down and pen a narrative about what I'm thankful for. Early on in my life, I would scribe these thoughts in my diaries and journals, to remind myself, despite what had happened throughout the day/week/month or year before that moment, I had something to be grateful for. Something to look forward to, and some kind of light in the darkness, or at the end of whatever tunnel I’d been lost and wandering in, at the time. Over the last few decades, I’ve penned such narratives on my computer; sometimes as social media posts, sometimes in letters or messages to friends and, most recently in my blog. The medium may have changed, but the sentiment has remained the same. I penned them, as a way of showing my gratitude for everything that I have in my life. Everything that still existed both, despite any losses or traumas I’d experienced, and in some cases, because of them.
I do this each year after reflecting, and taking stock of what I have in my life, to be thankful for. I do this to remind myself that regardless of what I don’t have, or regardless of what I may have lost, there is always something that I have, that someone else may want; home, family, career, education, income, food on my table, laughter in my home, people who love me and who I love, and so on. And, because of that, I need to acknowledge and be grateful for all of these things, myself.
This year, in the wake of COVID, and all of its consequential effects and forced change, it’s been both; more enlightening and at the same time, more critical than ever, not only for me but for most people to do this. The forced isolation, the loss of lifestyles, livelihoods, relationships, family and friends, and the utter uncertainty of it all, has forced even people who don’t normally engage in this kind of self-reflection to evaluate and analyze their lives. To finally take stock of their lives and re-prioritize. It’s forced us to see what we can and can’t live without. What we need versus, what we want in our lives. It’s forced us to sit quietly, in our own company, and the company of our families; who, in some cases, had become strangers to us while we were out ambitiously taking on the world, on our own. It’s forced us to be still. Forced us to be quiet, and contemplative, and forced us to do exactly what I do every year; examine gratitude, by finding ways of being grateful and things to be grateful for.
Although, as the name of the blog, itself suggests, I am not a stranger to solitude and thought, and, even though I’m quite comfortable with quiet contemplation and stillness, I’ve still suffered throughout this pandemic. I’ve still suffered losses, and grieved those losses like the rest of the world. I’ve still become stir crazy, sitting home alone throughout lock down; because it wasn’t my choice to be so isolated, this time. Because it was outside of my control, and was yet, another situation in my life trying to rob me of my own power. I’ve still been forced to pull myself up by my bootstraps and find ways of learning to live and thrive in my own, “new normal”, like the rest of the world around me; to take back my own life and control of it, in this new normal. And, I’ve been forced, like the rest of us, to find things to be grateful for; light within and amidst the darkness that seemingly enveloped the world these past several months.
Normally, finding things to be thankful for isn’t that difficult a task for me. If nothing else, I can always see my children and other deep and lasting relationships that exist in my life as enough. And, they are, truly. But this year, being isolated and forced to be apart from them for months at a time, I have to be completely honest and tell you that I had some pretty dark days. Days where, even I couldn’t find reasons to get out of bed, or things to look forward to. Gratitude became just a word for me for a while. And, thankfulness, just a concept that I’d at one time, considered important. It took everything I had inside me just to greet each day. But I did it; one moment at a time, one day at a time. Each day, searching, and reaching; for purpose and meaning, and gratitude. Until, suddenly one day I did.
One day, after several attempts at finding calm in the storm, and peace in the midst of the chaos of the world, I found it. I realized that it wasn’t about trying to keep what I had or maintain the lifestyle that I had grown accustomed to. It was about learning to adapt to the circumstances and whatever was thrown at me. Not about, as the quote by Vivian Greene reads, “waiting for the storm to pass, but learning to dance in the rain”. I didn’t need to find shelter in the storm. I didn’t need to wait for it to pass. The longer I waited, the darker it got. I needed to embrace the storm. To find reasons to be thankful for the storm; even if that was simply that I’d survived another day within it. I needed to find that light in the darkness. A place of calm within the chaos. And, if I couldn’t find it, I needed to be it.
I needed to realize that life wasn’t about waiting or avoiding. Life was about living and facing the storms. It was about discovering ways of making the most of every situation, and being okay within each situation. Adapting to each, “new normal” that I was presented with; without being the worst version of yourself throughout it. It was about discovering ways of dancing in the rain, as it were. To be grateful for what my life had to offer now, I didn’t need to wait or avoid this particular storm. On the contrary, I just needed to learn to dance again.
This year has taught me some great lessons. Throughout extreme circumstances. Despite all that I’ve been through and all that I’ve overcome in my life, I had never seen anything in my lifetime as dark and difficult; globally, as this pandemic has been, and continues to be. But if I can adapt to my circumstances in other ways, and throughout other storms, then I can do the same throughout this storm. I can learn to dance, in new ways. Learn new dance moves to help me find joy within this particular storm. This year has taught me some new dance moves. And, it’s taught me that we all need to learn them. And, this year, as I sit and pen my gratitude narrative, i sit thinking of everyone else, instead of myself. I’ve found ways to be grateful and reasons for gratitude in my life. And, I wish the same for you. Now I need to share that; spread that light, if you were. And, it’s in the sharing that I find that purpose and meaning, and find that calm within the storm. It’s in spreading love and light, that I feel it, myself. It’s within spreading hope, that I feel that hope, as well.
I hope you can find the same light. I hope that you can use that light to illuminate reasons to be grateful I hope you can find hope, itself. I hope that you can find a way to be grateful and reasons to be thankful for what remains in your life, as well. I hope that you can see the good that has come out of our ‘new normal’, and ways of finding joy in everything and in every situation, yourself. I hope that you can find the same calm throughout this storm, as well. I hope that you choose not to wait for the storm to pass, and see that each day is a blessing, regardless of what that looks like. I hope you can find the peace in the stillness and appreciate the opportunity to sit in the quiet. I also hope that, while you’re waiting for the storm to pass, you embrace the chance to learn some new dance moves. And, I hope, as the song lyrics above suggests, that if you’re given a chance to sit it out or dance, that you choose to dance like I have.
I hope you dance.