I remember when I first realized music made me dance on the inside. A sixteen-year-old, sitting in my lavender bedroom, feeling a little sad about a recent breakup. My radio on and just hoping a sad song would be played to add drama to the moment. Instead, Twist and Shout by the Beatles played.Before I realized it I was dancing on the front porch.
For many years I have known that music is the heartbeat of my soul. It was no surprise when researchers announced that music is healing to the body. This boomer knew that decades ago and it speaks to my soul. I call it my a songversation.
Not more than a year ago I experienced one of the saddest times of my life. I never thought the dark night of my soul would ever see light again much less sing or dance.
I will never forget the Sunday I was strolling through Walmart to keep my mind busy. I remember back when Sundays were the days our families would gather and swim, cook and laugh. For me, grandkids made every moment with them magical but those days are gone. Sometimes the pain was more than I could bear.
On this particular Sunday, I was determined not to have a sobbing episode even though seeking comfort in Walmart is kinda sad. Suddenly, I remember the exact moment when I was standing in the lingerie department and I realized I was singing with the loud music playing overhead. Tears began to roll down my face. In this moment I knew I was going to make it. I didn’t move. I wanted to remember this exact moment so, I began to look for something I could purchase as a reminder of this milestone. Without moving one step, I grabbed the loudest, happiest pair of pink pajamas I have ever seen and put in my empty basket.
I’ve had several pink pajama parties since that day. Alone, sitting on the floor in my serenity room, listening to loud music while filling my heart and spirit with hope and joy.
Sometimes my music whispers and sometimes it screams. I know if I will listen to the music long enough eventually I will dance.
Life is too short not to dance.