Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Once a Rockette

To dance is to live.” Snoopy

I love to dance more than any other person on earth. I danced from the moment I could walk-all the way to Radio City Music Hall. For a moment, I was a Rockette, for all my life, I’ve been a dancer. But, after dancing long enough to wear out most body parts, I got married, had children and moved to the desert.

I never planned to be a wife. Never planned to be a mother. Was absolutely dead set against ever living in a suburb. I was under the misguided impression that I was special. I mean, dancers are…at least…pretty.

I thought I would make a gigantic difference in this world. Or at least be famous. I thought I would always have somewhere exciting to go.

Chandler, Arizona was not the place that first came to mind, but here I am. A wife. A mother. Living in a Chandler, Arizona suburb.

In church today the pastor asked “What are you doing in your life that you could not do without the help of the Lord?” I thought, “Getting up.”

When does who we thought we were coincide with who we are, who we’ve become? When do we let go of the dreams of youth and fully embrace our present? How old will I be when I finally see the dreams God had for me are being fulfilled, and then be at peace with that knowledge? 82? Ever?

My husband wooed me by doing a pirouette in a parking lot on the night I met him. On the inside of my wedding ring is engraved “Always woo.” Although, he doesn’t pirouette or woo anymore, he does work endless hours in a job he loves and comes home to his family every night. He does love me-almost as much as he loves being married to someone who was once a Rockette.

I made an important decision to leave the comfort of my home town and become a dancer in New York City, to marry my husband, to become a mother. If I hadn’t first made the decision to follow the intense tugging in my soul to dance – I would be a terrible wife and mother and possibly more discontent in the life I now lead. If I had never taken a chance I would never have known…anything. I know very little, but I know I’m lucky or blessed to have heard the music and danced. To have lived a dream. To have searched beyond the dream with someone who loves me no matter who I am or who I will become.