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There are certain gifts that people are just born with. Well, “gift” is not even the right word. It is who we are. It is not only part of our DNA, but it is somehow imprinted into our hearts and souls.

That is how dancing is for me. I am not saying that I am the world’s greatest dancer, but I was a born dancer. I was dancing before I could walk and begging to take classes by age three.

My parents saw this true desire and gifting in me and were good at supporting me by taking me to classes and coming to all of the performances. My mom even held my dancing as sacred for me because she stood up to my step father when he bitched about my loud dancing feet scratching up the wood floor of my bedroom on the second floor above his room. She said, “She’s a dancer! You cannot tell her not to dance!”

My dancing was the expression of my deepest soul. I danced for hours and hours in my room when I was not in the studio. I could free style and just allow the music to move me, and I also choreographed and performed daily for my family. My friends and I even spent our play time choreographing and performing for our parents during play dates.

I danced when I was sad or angry. I would passionately dance it out alone in my room. I danced when I was happy and celebratory as well. Dancing was my way of releasing everything, and it was my escape. It was my refuge. I could literally block out everything around me and enter another dimension when I was dancing whether shining like a star in front of an audience or all alone in secret solitude.

Dancing was also my way of connecting to God. I could feel a larger higher spirit pulsing through me when I danced, and I was even asked to dance in church as a young teenager. When I was finished and  “came back” to reality I saw everyone in tears in the congregation. Apparently they could feel it too. But usually this was something that I did alone with God.

When I went to college I immediately got into a dance company. At that time I was so depressed and still reeling from the things that I had been through before college that I no longer felt like dancing. I just didn’t care anymore. I could hardly dance, and that was my major red flag that something was horribly wrong in my very soul…….But that is not the story for today.

Saturday night I got the pleasure of dancing with my two-year old daughter in her very first dance recital. It was more than just a child’s recital for me because it was as if everything had come around full circle, and I was back on that dance stage. But this time I was with my baby…holding her hand….quietly whispering the next step in her ear….lifting her up….swaying and sashaying hand in hand….and experiencing her first performance with her.

What a magical and healing experience. I was taken back to all of my childhood performances. I was reliving them …not just through my daughter…..but actually with her.

Honestly I can hardly explain it, but if your soul is a dancer like mine you may understand. Or maybe if your soul is a singer or an artist of some sort you may understand too. But helping my baby as she danced for the very first time under the lights stirred my soul. It re-awakened something within me that is actually me, and I was teary eyed all weekend.

When she came outside after the show and saw her two grandmothers she gleefully said,  “I’m a dancer! I’m a dancer!”……

Wow!…… Me too!…… And forgetting that is forgetting who I am in my truest self.

I am thankful for the divine cycles that bring us back around to ourselves. And I will never forget the feeling of dancing with my baby girl in her very first performance. I will try to hang on to that feeling of life continuing…..renewing…..and healing. And I will try to dance again.