The Dance

by Terri Coop

In late 2009 my little family unit suffered a tragedy that made me question everything – life, faith, you name it and I questioned it.

However, as the weeks wore on, I began to hear faint traces of music in my heart. I didn’t find it in the sterile silent confines of the politically-correct hospital chapel. I found it in simple kindness. The cafeteria worker who gave me the biggest slice of cake. The nurse who didn’t make me leave at the end of visiting hours. The post office clerk who kept my mail safe. A sincere and thoughtful gift from a co-worker. Those small acts of decency reconnected my heart and anchored my soul.

As 2009 gave way to 2010 I resolved two things.

First, I would be kind and show my gratitude. No act was too small for a sincere “thank you.” For all I knew they were in the same throes as I and needed the healing power of a kind word. It worked. I received my reward in tired smiles and extra black olives on my sandwich at Subway. 

Next, I would learn to dance. Not the Hula or the Hustle, the world doesn’t need to see that (although my business building has a long aisle that is perfect for E Street Band air guitar and sax performances). Instead, I would listen to the music in my heart and follow wherever it leads.

The result? Micro-adventures that make the journey worthwhile. I blog. I laugh. I write. I freelance. I reach out on Facebook and connect with others. I go to lunch. In short, I dance.

While I was caught in the grind of being a care-giver and the burden of carrying on the family business alone, 2010 faded into 2011. However, my two resolutions continue to serve me well. So, I added a few more.

I resolved to give gifts and help unselfishly and to receive gifts and help humbly.

I resolved to care less about appearances and fashion and more about substance and sincerity.

I resolved to guard my own health and strength as the precious commodities that they are.

I resolved to continually challenge myself, reinvent myself and not accept the status quo.

And if none of that does the trick, doughnuts . . . lots of doughnuts.