Dancing speaks to me on a deep level. I love when performers glide through the motions without speaking. The steps have been pounded into their bodies past words, into muscle. The music is a net to keep them from floating away completely, but it is the connection between them that creates beauty.
One moment the dancers
will be reaching in the same direction. A second later, they might stretch in opposite directions. Yet both are part of the dance. No one interprets the pull as defiance, but rather strength born of mutuality.
"Tug on me. I will tug on you, and we will both be supported."
John and I have areas when we pull on each other. John leans toward frugality. Hence he has rarely been known to invite me out to dinner. But he will quite often make
me an elaborate entree involving peppers, cheese, tomatoes, broccoli, potatoes, salsa, rice and avocado. Who needs a restaurant when I have him? Still I sometimes suggest we go out. Less thrifty, I know, but it feeds us in another way. I bend to his pull, he yields to mine.
You can dance and look away. You can swing and end up sweaty. But to be a partnership, at least part of you needs to be touching.
