The Dance (click to listen)
” . . . And now I’m glad I didn’t know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I’d of had to miss the dance
Yes my life is better left to chance
I could have missed the pain but I’d of had to miss the dance.”
So today I have to ask the favor of allowing me a tangent. I never know what is going to come to me as I move through my day, what will prompt my writing.
Well today it was bitter sweet thoughts of those things I have loved and left behind me.
Sometimes it is a smell, or a song, or the way someone says my name, or an old t-shirt stuck at the back of a drawer that takes me back there. And when I arrive it is with a smile and hollowness in the core of me.
Life takes us down winding paths. I believe this is by brilliant design so that we are not able to glimpse that which lies ahead. You see if we could, surely we would stop skipping, turn promptly around, and head back where we came from.
Before we take our last breath our hearts will break over, and over, and over again. Before we become mothers our hearts will have shattered and been pieced back together again and again, creating an intricate mosaic of heartache.
Yet the cement that holds each shard to the other is every time our stomach surged, filled with butterflies and anticipation. The glue is every sweet moment holding our grandmother’s hand while it was still here to be held. It is the first kiss under a big, bright harvest moon; and it is the cool feeling of fresh water on exposed skin during the oppressive heat of summer.
Yes, our lives are better left to chance.
The road to consciously conceiving can be a long one; it can be filled with fissures and road work. However, along the way we also see magnificent rainbows unlike any we will see again, we look into our partners eyes and recognize love like we never thought was possible, and we find deepness in friendships we never knew would come to mean so much to us.
So as we inevitably turn the corner to see our child ahead, perhaps we will also sweetly and bitterly remember that the road behind is one we can never, ever visit again.
Perhaps we will remember that every step of the dance is one that will not be repeated. Because some steps have been so hard, maybe we also need to remember that some are sweeter than we ever thought possible.
Cherish the dance, every single step. Don’t lose sight of what is right here holding you now, for one day you will turn around and it will be lost forever behind the bend in the road.