A Dancer Must Dance

I find myself being called upon to play the part of a writer these days. Last night was a reading and booksigning with other writers at The Walter Anderson Museum, and next weekend I will participate as panelist at the Mississippi Book Festival in Jackson. Last night it was an hour or so of sitting still and a good bit of socializing. Then there was the reading, and I was last of four. Three others took their turn reading, as I sat with my nerves, attempting to listen to beautiful readings of poetry and then from a novel. Part of me could appreciate the flow of words, the emotional undertones. But most of me wanted to leap from my seat and dance in that glorious room. My father's murals called to me strongly to rise and respond as I have been accustomed to doing since I was a child. For me it is a room for dancing. And as my body is also a room for dancing, and the dance is happening whether my body is still or moving, I was experiencing a form of torture until my turn came. 

Finally, I stood to read from my little book: DANCING WITH MY FATHER. My body-room was stiff from waiting, sciatic nerve contracted painfully. Against my better judgement, the first words out of my mouth were: "I am not sure I can find my voice..." The puzzled looks on the audience members' faces brought me to my senses, and I read my own words, which did their best to dance from my stillness and fill that room with the dance that was my father's dance with his beloved Horn Island. I followed that with another vignette about rain and solitude. Such peaceful smiles on the faces of those receiving what I had to give. Their was peace in the words...and acceptance. I was soothed somewhat, and tired from the churning effect of the internal dance. I sat down as the generous applause subsided. 

Yet, the dance was to have its chance. I was asked to read one more. My response was honest: "If you want another, I will have to dance." Laughter... And one of my favorites of the museum's docents asked for "Cat Wisdom". She had seen me do that one before; she knew that the dance could come forth. And it did...