Day 4- Dancing

(I have to double-up today…I missed Day 4 yesterday…dange it.)

Dancing used to make me sweaty and happy at least four nights a week.

Dancing used to provide a much-needed release to what I thought were monumental woes, jam-packed into what truly was a worry-free life.

Dancing stopped when I became an emotionally, verbally abused wife and mother.

Among the ruins of my first marriage, dancing was dying too.

Somehow, my insides have always known how integral dancing is to my happiness.

Now the dancing I do is in my kitchen while four little ones bounce around me, giggling and more excited as the song plays on….

Now the dancing I do is in secret, in my bathroom when my outfit is especially cute and my lipstick is right.

Now the dancing I do is out of freedom and love, out of rebirth and redemption.

Day 1-Outside My Window

I used to write like my life depended on it…then life got in the way. At the encouragement of my husband, my mother and my boss, I have decided to get back in the swing of things and write everyday for a year. I have carved out 15 minutes a day to get started. It is my hope that I can stick to my plan and achieve my goal of simply writing again, and writing well. I have 365 writing prompts ready to go…if you follow along this journey with me I appreciate your feedback and inspiration along the way. -N

Outside my window life is moving as though the world is not crumbling.

Outside my window it’s easy to pretend. Pretending can change your perspective, they say. I have always been stubborn and believe my perspective doesn’t need any changing.

Outside my window the birds are chirping. One of my tiniest joys, the birds sing even while the world is crumbling. Birds are singing when bombs go off in Afghanistan and no one stands shouting in the name of love and peace. Birds are singing when young brown men are assassinated in the streets that raised them and called them their own.

Outside my window the sun is shining. Forever grateful for the wash of bright light and the clean feeling of hope that sunshine can give. There’s a lump in my throat even as I smile at the sun. I believe in healing. I believe in what cannot be seen.

Outside my window an American flag blows in the breeze. My insides churn as I wrestle with what I know America to be and what I wish it was…there aren’t enough of us to combat the America we know these days. There aren’t enough of us. There just isn’t enough.