A Story , A Dance
A story , a Dance.
In 1999 John and I began taking ballroom dancing. In 2000, just before he started his UN missions around the world for the RCMP as a peacekeeper, we were at a castle like hotel in Ottawa. We had been dancing now for over a year and it was time to display our talent. It was Showcase Time. A Time where we watch others in their full glory and a time for us to have fun, show off and show up for one another. John decided he did not want to go that day. He did not have to show up for anyone. Not a problem, I will go on my own with our instructor. John will join us for the dinner & dance afterwards. Well, he showed up, was in a foul mood and after the tables was cleared; dancing this night was not his gig. I remember standing up against the wall, looking a my tapping feet,, felt my beauty and thought, “I am to precious for this”. I wrapped my beautiful black grown around me, took off my silver shoes and into the freezing night I hailed a cab home. I did not say goodbye or discuss with him where I was going. I felt like Cinderella going home from the ball. If my knight was going to put up his armor or close off his heart, that was his issue, not mine. I was content, felt gratitude, peace, alive. I held no anger. I was with the Divine. When I arrived home I went into the spare bedroom. An hour later a knock came at bedroom door, “ What happened to you?” I was reading at the time and asked him to sit down. I explained how I felt . I told him that when he treats me with disrespect, when he chooses to dance the beat of the joyless knight, well it just was not my rhythm. He went into our room and the next day humbled himself to say “ I am sorry.”
We have been together since 1973, forty years and I am happy to say that when the fairy wants to dance her knight is very accepting.
