We are all dealt a destiny we come to know intimately as we age. Some take that destiny and dance with it; they let their toes get stepped on or move swiftly/gracefully across the floor. Some never get out of their seat, preferring to sit like wall flowers outside of the action. Some wait for the foxtrot to end so they can dance the waltz; they wait and wait but the waltz is never played.
I spent years, literally years, thinking my destiny had been thrown off course. I thought, “where is the damn waltz when all they’re playing is foxtrot?” The same is true with my upbringing, my love life, my career, my weight, etc. When it comes down to it, my expectations got in the way of me seeing the beauty in my life.
Now, I have no time to waste. I feel I need to fill the minutes because it feels like minutes are all that matter. Perhaps I don't want to slow down and really think about how many moments I wasted wishing for different moments. Perhaps I have picked through that sentiment enough and am ready to be present instead of berating myself.
The other night, after I found out some bad news, D prepared dinner in a 50s cabin up by a lake in the woods outside Granby. Our friends played jazz on their zume and we sipped cocktails as the evening took over the day. My heart was heavy with expectations of the worst sort. Unexpectedly, my love took my hand and swung it up by his shoulder. He put his cheek to mine and wrapped his arm around my hips. We swayed to the music, so classically achey and suiting to my soul. He danced me around the small kitchen, in front of the fridge, in spite of the dogs, as dinner cooked. It was something he never normally would instigate. In fact, I always try to twirl him around our kitchen, daydreaming that we are spinning happiness from our life together. He usually acquiesces but I can tell he thinks I'm being silly. That night, he moved me into the next moment of my life and blew apart my expectations. In sadness there was joy, and my heart broke in a good way.