a dancers dream

Last night I dreamt of Baryshnikov.

His movement, perhaps even still, exposed aliveness beyond what is essentially real.

In my dream, my body mimicked his, fluid motion that defied the earth’s gravitational pull.

There’s love in the air at the moment – tiny motes of passion floating about me. It’s not my own, but its close by and alights infectiously in my own soul.

Frisson’s of new love dance as I did with this beautiful performer and inspiration is just there, a brief touch away.

To see two people coming alive at the possibilities they see in each other’s eyes is a great privilege. One I hope to witness many times in my life. As two lovers are observed, you simply can’t help but smile softly inside, recognising the thin line of vulnerability they exist in – that space that hovers between exquisite joy and furious terror. That nauseating flutter that simply won’t go away.

Watching a great dancer brings the same lifting in my soul, that same yearning for something extraordinary, something even more existent than a new born baby or the first spring bud.

I guess falling in love is a like learning a dance, two people moving in confluence with each other – parting at times but remaining connected, linked irrevocably by the beat of their own music.

The dancers sometimes miss a step, but as they learn and continue loving, their movements become more liquid, more intuitive and the dance becomes a familiar old movement, something that can be done in the dark, without thought.

Sometimes, though, people who’ve been dancing together for a long time forget the steps of new love. Sometimes they trip a little and hesitate when the fading sound of that first love’s beat hums deeply inside.

I hope that wherever you are in the timing of your relationship’s dance, that you can remember, even if for a brief moment, the first tentative steps you took, the look in your partner’s eyes as you walked into a room, the feeling of intensity that surrounded everything – brighter colours, more melodic music, clearer skies.

Even if you’ve lost your love, I hope you can remember the dance and begin it again. I hope you can dance it alone, even, safe in the knowledge that at least once, someone saw your soul and decided to choose you.

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