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“What great thing would you attempt if you knew you could not fail?”


Today I danced.  Alone.  With God.  It seemed appropriate.   Today is my birthday, you see, and what better way to celebrate my birth, but to dance!  Dancing is not my norm, but it happens to be this week’s assignment and I am committed to this process of joy-seeking.

I made my first attempt at dancing yesterday afternoon with my boy.  And for a few reasons, the experience didn’t quite live-up to my expectations.  Time was short, as we needed to get our dancing underway before my girl returned home from a play date. (You know how those little sisters can ruin a good time.)  Anxiety was already building when my boy began to fret over not being able to find the particular Disney song to which he had set his heart on dancing.  After listening to the beginning of every song on two different Disney CD’s, I almost gave-up on the whole dancing idea when we happened to stumble on the right song.  My boy recovered quickly, though, and I willed myself to push aside my dampened mood and to dance.  For some reason, dancing like a princess to Beauty and the Beast just wasn’t doing it for me.  And then, I caught the smile on my boy’s face as he wiggled his arms and legs in awkward little dance moves. I took his hand in mine and we ran around the room, scarves trailing behind us.  We breathed in the joy together.

No doubt, I  cherished that dance with my boy;  however,  I decided that I needed to try this dancing thing again today.  By myself.  With music that I like.  Being the direction follower that I am, I donned a 3-tiered skirt (for the swirl effect) and a bright orange striped T (because  it’s colorful and feels good against my skin), hung  a long strand of my girl’s gold plastic beads around my neck,  grabbed a stack of my favorite CDs, and headed downstairs to the basement.  My playlist:  Eva Cassidy, Chris Tomlin, Natalie Grant, and Steven Curtis Chapman.  I know.  These probably aren’t the standard fare for dancing, but a few songs in particular speak to my heart and that’s what I was going for.  I popped Eva Cassidy’s soulful version of People Get Ready into my girl’s karaoke player, walked over to an open area between the hammock swing and  mini trampoline, and danced.  I swayed.  I twirled.  I held my arms open-wide.  I felt that little girl inside me rejoicing.  And after dancing my way through 30-minutes of CDs, I noticed tears rolling down my cheeks.  Tears of joy.  I danced with God.  And it was good.

I met her today.  She has strawberry blonde hair that falls in loose waves down the middle of her back, blue eyes, and a sprinkle of freckles across her nose.  She loves nature, art, and the color red.  When running freely across the wide-open fields, she exudes great joy.  She dances.  She picks flowers and makes daisy chains to hang around her neck.  Her child-like innocence wraps itself around squirming puppies with reckless abandon.

At one time, I knew her well. We met again, today, at the art studio.  She is 6 years old and her name is Kristin .  She is my inner child, a child of God.  In the seriousness of life, she was left behind a while back and is now begging to come out and play with me.  “Dance with me!”  she calls, arms outstretched, open wide, ready to receive all that is hers to claim.  She giggles and twirls, inviting me to join her on this adventure.  This adventure called freedom.  Freedom from worry. Freedom from guilt. Freedom to be the person that God has created her to be.

Recently, I made the committment to spend the next two months claiming this freedom with the guidance and support of mentor/creative coach, Amy.  At first glance, it would seem that I entered into this relationship by accident, stumbling into a free parenting workshop offered by Amy at her art studio several months ago;  however, after spending two hours with fifteen other women blissfully cutting out words and photos, collaging what speaks to my heart, I couldn’t stop there.   It was just the beginning.  The beginning of a renewed friendship with my 6-year old, inner child.  The yearning to share my authentic self with my family and friends with more consistency and in increasingly tangible ways.  And, in reuniting with this 6-year old who lives inside me, I dare to share our journey together in the hopes that I just might be able to pass along some joy to you.  I humbly invite each of you to join me on this adventure in the coming months.  Won’t you dance with me?


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