Time to Dance


It’s late February. I am sitting in my living room watching large fat snowflakes bump

silently against the window. My pink Himalayan salt lamp is determined to push

away winter shadows with its warm pink glow and my two-year old husky-mix pup,

Laci, has abandoned her search for a sunbeam and curled into a furry ball on my

yoga mat.

I reach for a turquoise, spiral-bound notebook and flip to a fresh page, free of

previous rants, lists and half finished poems. As long as I can remember I’ve put pen

to paper. It offers a comforting sensation of coming home. Emotions are pulled from

my cells, quiver down my arm through my fingertips and bleed out through the pen.

The blank page captures the ink, gives the torrent of words a place to land.

Sometimes, blue ruling is smothered with frustration, grief, sadness, while other

days it’s caressed with love and contentment. But always, it resonates with truth. A

moment captured and released.

When I don’t make space in my day to do this, I miss the words. I miss hanging out

on the page letting them tumble over each other. Writing invites me into the quiet

and allows me to slow down. The challenging part is to ignore the dog fur puffs piled

in the corner, the mountain of laundry cascading down the stairs and the spotted

bananas buried in fruit bowl, waiting to be transformed into muffins for school

lunches. I remind myself of Natalie Goldberg’s words, “To find your writer’s voice is

to find your spine; it is to connect your breath of inspiration with the world’s


The laundry looses the battle.

As with yoga practice, the important part of writing is to show up just as I am. Pick

up my pen and write. There are so many reasons to do so.

Write to remember.

Write to create.

Write to share your stories.

Write to communicate.

Write to heal your wounds.

Write to make art out of the ordinary.

Write to know your true self.

Write for no reason at all.

Sometimes it’s enough to just dance with the words. Would you like to dance?

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