Dancing with myself

I used to love to dance. I don’t dance well and usually do it only in the privacy of my own home, but I used to love to do it. I remember dancing in my bedroom as a teen to Duran Duran, Boy George, and mostly Billy Idol. I loved Billy Idol (still do). Even my pony Pirate loved Billy Idol and we were often listening to his music while running around together in the arena. Pirate was a little blonde bad ass punker-rebel so he really fit the part.

When the kids were little I used to dance with them all the time. With Jacob it was usually more kid appropriate music, with Jenna it tended to be more Black Eyed Peas and Lady Gaga (her choices). We would dance and dance and laugh and spin and enjoy each other.

Then some life stuff happened and all of a sudden dancing made me sad. I think it made me sad because it used to bring me so much joy and then when I was doing it all I could see was how unhappy life was. So I stopped. I’ve tried off and on to dance again, but there’s always been this underlying feeling of sadness lingering there.

Tonight I put Billy Idol on the Iphone and danced and twirled and sang (as badly as I dance) and really enjoyed myself. The direct result of this quest for happiness is that happiness is finding me. More and more there are happy and joyful moments. Even when surrounded by uncertainty, there is so much happiness and hope and love. Billy Idol… my happiness moment.


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