Thankful for..... Dance

I've struggled since the weekend to find my bloggy love... the passion I have been in the process of rebuilding just seemed to have disappeared overnight. When I tried to write, or budget, or sew, my brain was complete mush.

Part of it is to do with WonderMan's visit, because wonderful as it was to have him home, it was over all too quickly and this time we knew the break is going to be longer, and sort of indefinite as it is officially harvest next week, and he and his truck will be having the kind of close relationship I can only dream of.

Today my passion returned... in full force... demanding I get home and write about my favourite thing in the world....

Tonight I'm thankful that I can dance.

Every week I turn up to the local RSL hall, and spend hours teaching and dancing.

I have danced, at the same hall, with the same teacher, since I was six. I finished after Tiger did her first concert, and after trying to convince myself I had given it up I finally went back this year, and reclaimed the love of my life.

Through all the ups and downs that life has brought me... there has always been the escape to dance classes, and the happiness it brings. 

When life is pushing me down, one night of dancing can push it all to the side, and help me get through, to stand strong against the world.

I love the feeling of making my body do incredible things. I can feel the music from my pointed toes to the tips of my fingers, and when it flows through me I could conquer the world. 

On my sixth birthday I was woken in the early hours of the morning, my mother pressed a parcel to my chest, kissed me on the head, and told me "I love you, I'm sorry, but your uncle is in the hospital, I have to go."

He had been involved in a head on collision between his and another truck, and was fighting for his life after almost burning to death on the side of the road.

I struggled so hard to comprehend what was happening, and I wanted my birthday to go away and never come back again.

And then I opened that parcel; inside were my first ballet shoes, and a ticket from my mother promising dance lessons from that day onward. 

My joy was overwhelming, my grief crushing. The happiest and most heartbreaking moments of my life happened that morning, while my father held me close and let me cry until I couldn't cry any more.

I will never forget that moment.

Nor will I forget my years spent in that hall, with my teachers voice ringing in my ears, and the beat running through my veins.

I have danced in seventeen concerts, and will dance in my eighteenth and final concert this December.

As we prepare to start our new life, I am saddened that our time with Mrs D has come to an end. She has been like a second mother, watching out for me, loving me, caring for me and teaching me for so many many years.

I don't know what life will be like without her, and without dance.

I struggle to even imagine it.

There are dance classes where we are going, just started this year. I am thankful that my girls, and maybe I, will be able to continue to dance and live life with joy in our hearts. 

But there will always be this tiny piece of wrongness - the feeling that Mrs D should be there, spurring me on to be better, stronger, faster.

Even so I know I will live with dance in my heart, never letting go of my love, holding onto one of the most pure joys life can offer.

And for now, I will dance like everyone is watching, for it is the most blissful feeling I know.

Linking with Kate Says Stuff for Thankful Thursday